Planning Unplanned - Can Art Have a Function? Towards a New Function of Art in Society by Barbara Holub/ transparadiso

Planning Unplanned—Towards a New Positioning of Art in the Context of Urban Development

Herausgeber / Editors Barbara Holub Christine Hohenbüchler

Planning Unplanned – Einführung [ Barbara Holub ] → S. / p. 6

R-Urban: Resilient Agencies, Local Circuits, and Civic Practices [ atelier d’architecture autogérée ] → S. / p. 102

The First World Congress of the Missing Things [ Barbara Holub ] → S. / p. 156

So viel Planung, dass Menschen sehen, fühlen, merken, dass sie ungeplant etwas tun können [ Samstag in der Stadt ] → S. / p. 196

01 Planning Unplanned

Fragen an Urban Practitioners [ Ute Burkhardt-Bodenwinkler, Martin Fritz, Josef Lueger, Claudia Nutz, Ursula Maria Probst, Erich Streichsbier, Martina Taig, Andrea Holzmann, Peter Arlt ] → S. / p. 100, 106, 112, 114, 180, 234

04 Collaboration, Cooperation, Participation

Praktiken des Alltags [ Angelika Burtscher, Roberto Gigliotti – Osservatorio Urbano / Lungomare ] → S. / p. 198

Between a Rock and a Hard Place: Critical Challenges to “New Urban Practices” [ Mick Wilson ] → S. / p. 166

Notes on Commoning and the New Role of the Urban Practitioner [ Stefan Gruber, Anette Baldauf ] → S. / p. 203

Our Pernicious Temporality: Embodiment and Theoreticism in Contemporary Art [ Grant Kester ] → S. / p. 168

Commons Come to Liezen [ transparadiso] → S. / p. 208

Why PACT? How Does It Work? [ Yvette Masson-Zanussi, Marco Stathopoulos ] → S. / p. 175

06 After the Applause

Planning Unplanned—Towards a New Positioning of Art in the Context of Urban Development [ Barbara Holub ] → S. / p. 20 Missing Things as a Potential for the Unplanned _Learning from “Beyond Leidsche Rijn”, “kunstprojekte_riem”, and Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside [ Barbara Holub ] → S. / p. 47 Plan ohne Planung – Einfache antizipatorische Grundübungen zur Verbesserung der Lebensumstände zukünftiger BewohnerInnen [ Georg Winter ] → S. / p. 60 Planning Unplanned – Wo ist die Kunst? [ Barbara Holub ] → S. / p. 64 From Critical Spatial Practice to Site-Writing [ Jane Rendell ] → S. / p. 71 public works—Enjoying the In-Between [ Torange Khonsari ] → S. / p. 85

02 Exploring the New Role of the Urban Practitioner The Park Play Project— A Tale of Accumulative Planning [ Kerstin Bergendal ] → S. / p. 94

Köbberling / Kaltwasser: The Games Are Open [ Barbara Cole ] → S. / p. 108 www.urban-matters.org Urban Matters Reconsidered: For Societal Engagement in Urban Development [ Barbara Holub, Karin Reisinger ] → S. / p. 116 Urban Curators at Work— A Real-Imagined Historiography [ Elke Krasny ] → S. / p. 119

03 Tools and Strategies Workshop 1: Tools and Strategies for the Urban Practitioner → S. / p. 132 Das künstlerische Handeln in einer neuen Praxis – „Urban Practitioners“ [ Paul Rajakovics ] → S. / p. 134 Einfache psychotektonische Übungen [ Georg Winter ] → S. / p. 140 Freies Handeln in besetzten Räumen: Zur Zukunft künstlerischer Praxis zwischen Kunst, Stadt und Planung [ Markus Ambach ] → S. / p. 145 Fight-Specific Isola [ Isola Art Center ] → S. / p. 150

Inhalt / Contents

Homebaked, a Perfect Recipe [ Jeanne van Heeswijk ] → S. / p. 176 Ermöglichend planen – Aus der Perspektive eines Wohnbauträgers [ Andrea Holzmann ] → S. / p. 180 ein-fall-en ein Ein-griff [ Christine und Irene Hohenbüchler ] → S. / p. 182

05 Urban Practitioners and Commons Urban Practitioners and Commons [ Stefan Gruber, Anette Baldauf ] → S. / p. 190 Soho, Inc.: Art, Urban Development, and the Myth of the Creative City [ Anette Baldauf ] → S. / p. 192

Feldversuche in bewegter Stadt [ Regina Bittner ] → S. / p. 216 The Curatorial Constellation, Durational Public Art, Cohabitational Time, and Attentiveness [ Paul O’Neill ] → S. / p. 223 A Piece of Europe in a Winter Garden [ Valentin Diaconov ] → S. / p. 229 Spatenstiche – Arbeitsweisen der angewandten Soziologie [ Peter Arlt im Gespräch mit Barbara Holub ] → S. / p. 234 Paradise Enterprise [ transparadiso ] → S. / p. 238

Biographies → S. / p. 246 Imprint → S. / p. 255

Inhalt / Contents

PLANNING UNPLANNED – EINFÜHRUNG [ Barbara Holub ]

„Eine Stadt ist kein Unternehmen“, ist auf einem Transparent der „Recht-aufStadt“-Bewegung in Hamburg zu lesen. Die KünstlerInnen in Hamburg haben sich organisiert und knüpfen an erfolgreiche Projekte wie Park Fiction an, das zu einem internationalen Paradebeispiel kollektiver Wunschproduktion geworden ist. Zunehmend agieren Städte wie gewinnorientierte Unter nehmen und machen sich Kunst und sogenannte Kreative zunutze, um all jene Probleme zu kaschieren, die ebenjene einseitig von monetärem Gewinn getriebenen Entscheidungen produzieren. KünstlerInnen wird Raum geboten, bis dass die Aufwertung stattfindet und darüber hinaus, solange es gut in das touristische Stadtbild passt. Oder sie werden kurzfristig zur Hilfe gerufen, wenn die sozialen Probleme zu groß werden – und die ExpertInnen nicht mehr weiterwissen. Das Ungleichgewicht zwischen der zeitlich begrenzten Dauer dieser künstlerischen Projekteinschübe und den Machtverhältnissen politischer Entscheidungsstrukturen, die überwiegend auf ökonomischem Kalkül basieren, perpetuiert die bestehenden Verhältnisse und den Mangel an sozialer Gerechtigkeit. Planning Unplanned untersucht Möglichkeiten, wie künstlerisch-urbane Strategien aktiv in Stadtentwicklung eingreifen und neue, sozial ausgerichtete Mehrwerte, die für die Gemeinschaft eintreten, Terrain gewinnen können. Der Widerstand gegenüber Veränderungen (sowohl in der Struktur als auch im Handeln) der bestehenden Planungsabteilungen ist nachvollziehbar – ist Stadtplanung doch der direkte Ausdruck wirtschaftlicher Interessen. Planning Unplanned tritt für radikale Neuerungen ein – wohl wissend, dass man Unmögliches wollen muss, um die Grenzen des scheinbar Machbaren weiterzuschieben. Dies ist bereits eine künstlerische Strategie, die auch in Projektbeispielen in der vorliegenden Publikation immer wieder auftauchen wird. Wir (Barbara Holub und Paul Rajakovics / transparadiso) haben diese vor einigen Jahren als „vorweggenommene Fiktion“ bezeichnet. Zahlreiche Symposien und Veranstaltungen haben sich im Laufe der letzten 15 Jahre oft aus kritischer Perspektive mit Kunst im urban-öffentlichen Raum und mit Fragestellungen von Stadtentwicklung befasst. Ebenso wurden viele Ausstellungen (vor allem im Rahmen von internationalen Biennalen) sowie unzählige Projekte für Kulturhauptstädte, Kunst-im-öffentlichen-Raum-Programme bzw. selbstinitiierte Projekte – meist als temporäre,

Einführung

künstlerisch-urbane Interventionen – durchgeführt. Einfluss auf eine mögliche Veränderung der Praxis von Stadtplanung und Stadtentwicklung hatten diese Projekte und neue künstlerische und urbane Praktiken, die dafür entwickelt wurden, bis dato jedoch allenfalls in ihrer Marginalität punktuell und zeitlich beschränkt. {01} Auf der anderen Seite wird Kunst von Seiten der DeveloperInnen oder des Stadtmarketings zunehmend gern gesehen und vielfach gezielt eingesetzt, um Defiziten in der Stadtentwicklung zu begegnen. Die Aufgaben, die Kunstprojekten dabei zukommen, befassen sich meist mit „community building“ im weiteren Sinne oder mit konkreter Problemlösung von sozialen Konflikten, Reduzierung von Krimi nalität, d. h. mit sozialen und gesellschaftspolitischen Aufgaben, die von anderen Bereichen politischer Verantwortung – und eben auch von der Stadtplanung oder der Stadtentwicklung – nicht behandelt werden. Das zunehmende Interesse von KünstlerInnen, sich mit urbanen Fragestellungen und künstlerisch-urbanen Praktiken zu befassen und sich somit für gesellschaftliche Belange außerhalb des kunstinstitutionellen Raums zu engagieren, basiert meist auf einer kritischen räumlichen Praxis, die sich dezidiert Gentrifizierungsprozessen und der Dominanz des neoliberalen Wirtschaftssystems widersetzt. Die vorliegende Publikation erscheint zum Abschluss des Forschungsprojekts Planning Unplanned – Towards a New Positioning of Art in the Context of Urban Development, das ich von 2010 bis 2013 am Institut für Kunst und Gestaltung 1 der TU Wien im Rahmen von „Innovative Ideen“ initiiert und geleitet habe. Die Entscheidung, als Künstlerin ein Forschungsprojekt zu verfolgen, resultiert wesentlich aus der Erfahrung und der transdisziplinären Praxis von transparadiso, die wir seit 1999 verfolgen, um neue Taktiken, Strategien und Tools für Urbanismus als gleichwertig mit herkömmlichen Methoden der Stadtplanung zu entwickeln und als direkten Urbanismus {02} zu positionieren. Direkter Urbanismus bezeichnet die Involvierung künstlerischer Strategien (unabhängig davon, aus welcher ursprünglichen Disziplin sie entwickelt wurden) in langfristig ausgerichtete Prozesse von Stadtentwicklung und zur Behandlung von „urban issues“ unter Berücksichtigung sozialer und gesellschaftlicher Fragestellungen. Im Laufe unserer Arbeit mussten wir allerdings feststellen, dass entgegen unseren Erwartungen und dem Diskurs, der Mitte der 1990er-Jahre vor allem von Großbritannien aus forciert wurde, {03} die Kontexte von gesellschaftlich engagierten Kunstprojekten im öffentlichen Raum und jene von Stadtplanung weiterhin als Parallelebenen behandelt und finanziert werden. Planning Unplanned als Forschungsprojekt verfolgt das Ziel, diese Diskrepanz in das öffentliche Bewusstsein zu rücken und Handlungsansätze aufzuzeigen. Die Wechselwirkung von Forschung und Praxis genauer zu betrachten ist dabei ein wesentlicher Aspekt, um der Methode von „Forschung durch Praxis“ Raum zu geben. Theorie und Diskurs müssen mit dem konkreten Handeln auf politischer Ebene, das auch eine Veränderung der vorhandenen Strukturen notwendig macht, zusammengeführt werden. Zentrale Fragen von Planning Unplanned sind also: Wie können Kunstprojekte und künstlerisch-urbane Strategien neue Formen von Gemeinschaft und gesellschaftlichem Zusammenleben fördern, ohne für Gentrifizierungsprozesse instrumentalisiert zu werden? Wie können diese ein Umdenken von Planungsprozessen in der Praxis bewirken? Wie kann die Unabhängigkeit von Kunst gewahrt werden? Panning Unplanned positioniert deshalb – sowohl als Forschungsprojekt als auch nun als Publikation – die Notwendigkeit, die verschiedenen

Barbara Holub

Paul O’Neill untersucht in Locating the Producers fünf internationale Projekte von Kunst im öffentlichen Raum, die „durational“ (also als langfristige Prozesse) angelegt waren (hrsg. von Paul O’Neill und Claire Doherty, Valiz, Amsterdam 2011).

Siehe dazu auch: Barbara Holub/ Paul Rajakovics, Direkter Urbanismus, Verlag für moderne Kunst, Nürnberg 2013.

03 Siehe dazu: Occupying Architecture. Between the Architect and the User, hrsg. von Jonathan Hill, Routledge, London [u.a.], 1998.

Ebenen von Theorie, Lehre, Forschung als eine sich gegenseitig informierende Praxis zusammenzubringen, sodass diese in ihrer Wechselwirkung neue Formate entwickeln, die sich zwischen den Genres von Theorie bzw. Diskurs und Anthologien von Beispielprojekten bewegen. Die Publikation ist deshalb so angelegt, dass AdressatInnen aus verschiedenen Disziplinen und beruflichen Hintergründen – auch in ihren konfligierenden Interessen – angesprochen werden. Themen wie „Konflikt als Produktivkraft“ eröffnen die Möglichkeit, die Heterogenität städtischen Zusammenlebens unter Berücksichtigung aktueller Themen wie Immigration als Qualität zu fördern und den Ambivalenzen und dem Ungeplanten Raum für offene Diskussionen zu geben. Die sich ständig verändernden Parameter von Gesellschaft zeigen sich direkt im urbanen Zusammenleben, das von Stadtplanung und Stadtentwicklung maßgeblich gesteuert wird. Wir müssen uns davon verabschieden, für die damit verbundenen Herausforderungen vorab konzipierte Lösungen parat zu haben. Planning Unplanned ist deshalb ein Plädoyer, den Prozess immer wieder nachzujustieren und dafür künstlerische Strategien einzusetzen. Die PolitikerInnen sind ebenso aufgerufen wie das Individuum, die BürgerInnen bzw. die sogenannte Zivilgesellschaft, sich ihrer Stimme zu ermächtigen und Verantwortung für die Gemeinschaft zu übernehmen, anstatt ihr Handeln auf das persönliche Eigeninteresse zu konzentrieren und zu reduzieren. Planning Unplanned versammelt künstlerisch-urbane Projekte und Texte aus verschiedenen kulturellen Kontexten, die von der jeweils spezifischen Praxis, die KünstlerInnen / AutorInnen im Laufe der Jahre entwickelt haben, geprägt sind. Die Frage, inwieweit diese Arbeiten sich selbst als Instrument zur Verbesserung sozialer Strukturen gezielt einsetzen oder inwieweit sie eine Praxis von Kunst mit gesellschaftlich-kritischem Engagement in den Vordergrund stellen, wird als Spektrum und Spannungsfeld sowohl durch die Projektbeispiele als auch durch die Texte aufgezeigt. Planning Unplanned verwehrt sich gängigen Modellen von „best practice“ und ist schon gar nicht eine Art Handbuch im Sinne einer Propagierung von Handlungsanweisungen. Vielmehr verfolgt Planning Unplanned eine differenzierte Betrachtung der jeweiligen kulturellen und politischen Situationen und bietet ein Lernen von den verschiedenen Beispielen an – im Sinne der Strategie von „Lernen von anderen Kontexten“. So gezielt und gleichzeitig offen, wie künstlerische Projekte sich einnisten, so unerwartet sind – trotz aller Erfahrung und durchdachter Konzepte – auch die Prozesse, die sie in Gang setzen. Aus diesem Grund wurde die Website urban-matters.org als aktive Plattform und wesentliches Recherche-Tool eingerichtet, das Projekte verschiedenster Größenordnungen in einer Datenbank versammelt und entsprechend der jeweiligen Beauftragung differenziert. In weiterer Folge werden die Tools und Strategien sowie die Fragestellungen und der spezifische Kontext analysiert und extrahiert. Kurzfristige urbane Interventionen werden nur dann auf urban-matters.org gezeigt, wenn sie eine längerfristige Wirkungskraft auf eine Situation verfolgen oder eine spezielle Zugangsweise entwickeln, die als Tool oder Strategie exemplarisch benannt und für andere Kontexte herangezogen werden kann. Im Sommersemester 2011 wurden alle Lehrveranstaltungen des Moduls Kunsttransfer am Institut für Kunst und Gestaltung 1 in einem übergreifenden Projekt als urbanmatters.pool zusammengefasst angeboten. In Kooperation mit der HBKsaar/Saarbrücken, Klasse Georg Winter, wurden tempo-

Einführung

räre künstlerische Interventionen sowohl in Saarbrücken (als schrumpfende Stadt) als auch in der zukünftigen Aspern-Seestadt in Wien 22 (als größte Stadtentwicklung von Wien in den nächsten 20 Jahren) im Rahmen von Workshops realisiert. Diese befassten sich mit zwei der wesentlichen aktuellen Themen von Stadtplanung: Wie kann man dem Schrumpfen von Städten und Regionen begegnen? Wie kann man Urbanität in neuen Stadtvierteln schaffen? Diese Themen waren auch wichtige Ausgangspunkte für Planning Unplanned, um Aufgabenfelder und Möglichkeiten einer neuen, transdisziplinären Rolle von Urban Practitioners auszuloten. Die Entwicklung von Aspern-Seestadt in Wien wurde bis 2012 im Rahmen des Forschungsprojekts als „test site“ begleitet, um Entscheidungslinien in diesem größten Stadtentwicklungsprojekt Wiens der nächsten 20 Jahre nachzuvollziehen. In der Planung dieser als „zukünftige Stadt zwischen Wien und Bratislava“ vermarkteten Stadtentwicklung war eine zentrale Fragestellung, welche Qualitäten für eine „neue Stadt“ (eben nicht nur ein „Stadtviertel“) wesentlich sind. Obwohl die Aspern Development AG immer wieder temporäre Kunstprojekte gefördert hat, wurde bis dato kein längerfristiges Programm für die Involvierung von Kunst bzw. künstlerischen Strategien beauftragt, die dezidiert aktuelle Fragestellungen der Identität einer neuen „Stadt“ in Bezug auf gesellschaftliche Entwicklungen adressieren. Um diese komplexe Frage zu behandeln, haben wir jüngere Beispiele von großen neuen Stadtentwicklungsgebieten untersucht, die groß angelegte Kunst-im-öffentlichen-Raum-Projekte parallel entwickelt und realisiert haben. So wurde die Transformation des ehemaligen Flughafens München Riem in die „Messestadt München-Riem“ von kunstprojekte_riem und das große Stadtentwicklungsprojekt in Utrecht / Leidsche Rijn von Beyond begleitet. Um die Erfahrungen durch andere kulturelle und gesellschaftspolitische Kontexte anzureichern, veranstalteten wir 2011 eine internationale Vortragsreihe mit Jane Rendell, Jonathan Banks, Georg Winter, atélier architecture autogérée, Paul O’Neill und Kerstin Bergendal sowie eine Ringvorlesung aus den diversen Perspektiven von Planung bis Stadtmarketing. Die Texte von Georg Winter und Barbara Holub aus der Publikation urbanmatters.coop (2012) entstanden in Bezug auf die „Test Site Aspern Seestadt“ und werden in Kapitel 1 nun neu veröffentlicht. Jane Rendells Vortrag „From Critical Spatial Practice to Site-Writing“ erscheint nun erstmals in Planning Unplanned. Rendell nähert sich dem Thema des „unplanned“, indem sie zuerst das Konzept der kritischen räumlichen Praxis diskutiert und dann Kritik („criticism“) selbst als eine Möglichkeit betrachtet, sich zwischen dem Geplanten und dem Ungeplanten als einer Form kritischer räumlicher Praxis zu bewegen. Planning Unplanned untersucht, wie das kritische und oft widerständige Potenzial künstlerischer Strategien als gesellschaftlich-soziales Engagement gegenüber den dominanten neoliberal geprägten Entscheidungen in der Stadtentwicklung wirksam werden kann. Der heftig diskutierten Frage, ob diese künstlerischen Strategien nun als „Kunst“ betrachtet werden können oder als kollaborative Praktiken vor allem sozial motiviert seien, wird eine neue, transdisziplinäre Rolle, jene der Urban Practitioners, entgegengestellt. Die Möglichkeiten dieser offenen, nicht festgeschriebenen Rolle wurden im Rahmen des Symposiums „Planning Unplanned_Exploring the New Role of the Urban Practitioner“ im November 2012 diskutiert.

Barbara Holub

Dazu wurden vier Workshops mit ausgewählten ExpertInnen aus den verschiedensten an Planung beteiligten Feldern (Kunst, Theorie, Urbanismus, MitarbeiterInnen der Stadtplanungsabteilungen, Soziologie) zu folgenden Themen veranstaltet: 1—Tools und Strategien des Urban Practitioner: In diesem Workshop wurden bereits bekannte und mögliche neue Werkzeuge, Rollen und Strategien der verschiedenen AkteurInnen im urbanen Raum diskutiert. 2—Kollaboration, Kooperation, Partizipation fragte nach Konflikten als Produktivkraft und lotete wichtige Gründe bis Abgründe aktueller Formen von Partizipation und Kooperation aus. 3—Urban Practitioners und „commons“ diskutierte „ownership“, „access“ und soziale Gerechtigkeit. 4—Nach dem Applaus stellte die längerfristige Wirksamkeit von urbanen Interventionen zur Diskussion und fasste konkrete Möglichkeiten der Etablierung von Urban Practitioners zusammen. Folke Köbberling konzipierte dafür mit StudentInnen des Instituts für Kunst und Gestaltung 1 eigene Settings, und Georg Winter führte mit den WorkshopteilnehmerInnen Aufwärmübungen vor Beginn der Workshops durch. Zitate aus den Workshops transferierten Folke Köbberling und Barbara Holub in das „urbanistische Ballett des Urban Practitioner“ nach dem Symposium als Beitrag für die Wandzeitung Nr. 13 bei Steinbrener/Dempf, Wien, 2. Bezirk. Für die vorliegende Publikation haben wir TeilnehmerInnen der Workshops eingeladen, ein Jahr danach anhand eines Fragebogens Statements zu den Themen, die in den Workshops diskutiert wurden, abzugeben. In welchen inhaltlichen und räumlichen Kontexten erscheint es sinnvoll und notwendig, neue künstlerische Methoden einzuführen und als wesentliche Beiträge zur Diskussion von Stadtentwicklung als gesellschaftspolitischem Anliegen zu etablieren? Mit welchen Tools, Taktiken und Strategien können wir uns dieser Aufgabe nähern? Welche Bedingungen braucht es für diese Veränderungen? Die Texte ebenso wie die Projektbeispiele aus verschiedensten Perspektiven und Erfahrungen zeigen Ansätze dazu auf, die es weiter zu diskutieren gilt. Kerstin Bergendal stellt ihr Park Play Project in Sundbyberg bei Stockholm, Schweden, vor, indem sie die Einladung zu einem Kunstprojekt nutzt, um in einem intensiven Prozess mit den BewohnerInnen eines benachteiligten Viertels tatsächlich in die Planung einzugreifen. Sie spricht dabei auch die Ambivalenz an, letztendlich dem Developer zu dienen, und beschreibt ihren künstlerischen Ausweg: die Errichtung des „Park Lek Parliament“ und in weiterer Folge die Entwicklung eines strategischen Plans für die zukünftige Entwicklung des Gebiets, der „das gesammelte Wissen und die gelebte Erfahrung“ der BewohnerInnen mit einbezieht. aaa (atélier d’architecture autogérée) initiiert seit vielen Jahren aktiv partizipative Projekte in sogenannten benachteiligten Stadtvierteln vor allem in Paris, die die Selbstermächtigung der BewohnerInnen anregen und sich vor allem mit Umweltproblemen befassen. R-Urban entstand aus Eigeninitiative als „bottom-up framework for resilient urban regeneration“ in Colombes, einem Vorort von Paris. R-Urban findet im Rahmen des EUUmweltschutzprogramms „LIFE+“ statt und ist das erste Projekt, in dem aaa seine Erfahrungen in einer großen städtebaulichen Dimension umsetzen und damit auch „gesellschaftliche Veränderungen“ anregen kann.

Einführung

The Games Are Open von Köbberling/Kaltwasser ist nur auf den ersten Blick eine Skulptur im öffentlichen Raum. Der überdimensionale Bulldozer wurde aus dekompostierbaren „wheat boards“, die aus dem Athletes Village der Olympischen Winterspiele 2010 stammen, gebaut und wird durch das Aussetzen im öffentlichen Raum wieder von der Natur überformt. Die meist massiven Auswirkungen von Olympischen Spielen auf die Stadtentwicklung werden in dem kurzen Lebenszyklus des gigantischen Bulldozers angesprochen. Wie kann ein/eine KünstlerIn ein Instrument für eine kollektive Neu betrachtung unserer alltäglichen Umgebung sein, unter Berücksichtigung der Komplexität unserer Gesellschaft? Das ist die Frage, der die Künstlerin Jeanne van Heeswijk (NL) nachgeht, wenn sie entscheidet, „in welcher Form sie ihre Arbeit einsetzt, um Communities zu verbessern“ (Zitat aus dem CV der Künstlerin). Im Rahmen der Liverpool Biennial 2012 realisierte van Heeswijk in einem zweijährigen Prozess 2Up 2Down/Homebaked: Mit BewohnerInnen von Anfield, einem sozial schwachen Viertel in Liverpool, gründete sie eine Community-Bäckerei, die zu einem neuen Identifikationspunkt wurde, und schuf damit gleichzeitig Infrastruktur und eine Einnahmequelle. Die Kulturwissenschaftlerin und Theoretikerin Elke Krasny beschreibt ihr Konzept einer „erweiterten, urbanen kuratorischen Praxis“ als „radikale relationale Praxis“, die die Form von Kunst, Kommunikation, Bauen, Diskurs, des Organisierens einer Nachbarschaft (Community), einer rechtlichen Handlung, unterstützender Selbstorganisation, des Ausstellungmachens, des Protests oder jegliche andere Form annehmen kann. Ihre Praxis des „urban curating“ tritt gegen urbane Ungerechtigkeit an und propagiert eine urbane Neuverteilung. Die Themen der Workshops strukturieren auch die weiteren Kapitel dieses Buches: Als Einführung zu „Kapitel 3_Tools und Strategien“ diskutiert Paul Rajakovics die aktuellen Möglichkeiten von Urban Practitioners und deren Tools und Strategien basierend sowohl auf dem Workshop „Tools und Strategien des Urban Practitioner“ als auch auf der Praxis von transparadiso und analysiert die Anfänge künstlerischer Strategien im urbanen Kontext der SituationistInnen, die auch heute noch wegweisend sind, bis zu singulären Persönlichkeiten wie Antanas Mockus, der als Bürgermeister von Bogotá wie ein Künstler agierte. Die Architektin Torange Khonsari stellt anhand von ausgewählten Projekten das Engagement von public works vor, einer multidisziplinären Praxis in London, die sich seit vielen Jahren für die Entwicklung von „communities“ einsetzt. public works entwickelt Objekte und Strukturen für die Aneignung von öffentlichem Raum, die der Selbstermächtigung und der Emanzipation vor allem benachteiligter BewohnerInnen dienen. Khonsari bezieht sich in der Beschreibung ihrer Praxis von Kunst und Architektur auf Jane Rendell, die für einen „third space“ jenseits einer binären Auffassung dieser beiden Disziplinen eintritt. Der Text des Künstlers, Lehrenden und Forschenden Georg Winter beschreibt in einem verdichteten Wortwerk die Hintergründe von „einfachen psychotektonischen Übungen“, die seinen subversiven Handlungsmodellen, Theorien, Kollaborationen und dem realen (Kunst-)Alltag zugrunde liegen. „Die Psychologie sieht in der Antizipation eine Erwartung oder Erwartungshaltung. Ein Ereignis zu antizipieren heißt, anzunehmen, dass ein

Barbara Holub

Ereigniseintritt wahrscheinlich ist. Ein Projekt wird geplant und zeitversetzt realisiert. In diesem Zusammenhang ist die Antizipation eher das Gegenteil einer direkten Praxis.“ Der Künstler Markus Ambach kuratierte in den letzten Jahren vor allem Großprojekte (wie B1A40, 2012), die sich mit der Transformation des Ruhrgebiets befassen. In seinem Text „Freies Handeln in besetzten Räumen“ hinterfragt er die vorgeschlagene Rolle des Urban Practitioner, der er die Rolle des „Künstlers als Unternehmer“ entgegenstellt, indem er auf kontextspezifische Projektstrukturen und Kooperationen eingeht. Das Isola Art Center in Mailand ist eines der radikalsten Langzeitprojekte künstlerischen Aktivismus, das sich den Interessen von Developers entgegensetzte. Hier kann man auch die sich verändernde Rolle von Stefano Boeri als ursprünglich kritischem Geist und Mitglied von „multiplicity“ beobachten, der in dem zentralen Stadtentwicklungsgebiet von Mailand zu einem Architekten mutierte und seine Chance einseitig wahrnahm. Das Isola Art Center wurde durch die Initiative des Künstlers Bert Theis zu einem exemplarischen Projekt, das sich der radikalen Transformation im Sinne von Gentrifzierung des innerstädtischen Gebiets widersetzte – und somit zum Zeichen von Widerstand gegen neoliberale Interessen von Stadtentwicklung wurde. Dafür wurde der Begriff „fight-specific Isola“ als radikale Modifika tion von „site-specific“-Projekten im urbanen Raum geschaffen. Mick Wilson führt in das Thema der Kollaboration, Kooperation, Partizipation und des Konflikts als Produktivkraft ein. In seinem Positionstext für den 3. Workshop des Symposiums „Planning Unplanned“ spricht er die gegensätzlichen politischen Ziele von herkömmlicher Planung und der aktiven bzw. auch aktivistischen Produktion des Ungeplanten an, die vor allem von KünstlerInnen und AktivistInnen forciert werden. Dabei adressiert Mick Wilson bereits die komplexen Debatten und die Kritik, mit der sich KünstlerInnen, die sich dezidiert für urbane Belange jenseits neoliberaler Stadtplanung engagieren, konfrontiert sehen. Diese sehr differenzierte Kritik ist jedoch meist auf den Kunstkontext beschränkt. Was wäre, wenn eine ähnlich differenzierte Kritik auch in einer breiteren Öffentlichkeit in Bezug auf – oft von politischen und nicht am Gemeinwohl orientierten Interessen motivierter – Stadtplanung stattfände? Der Kunsttheoretiker Grant Kester widmet sich in seiner Arbeit konsequent den verschiedenen Ausprägungen von partizipativen Kunstprojekten und differenziert dabei zwischen Kollaboration, Kooperation und Partizipa tion. In seinem Text „Our Pernicious Temporality: Embodiment and Theoreticism in Contemporary Art“ bezieht er sich auf Mikhail Bakhtin und unterscheidet künstlerische Praktiken zwischen einer „textuellen“ Annäherung und dialogischen Haltungen. Den letzteren schreibt er die Möglichkeit zu, eine kritische oder gegennormative Einsicht über den Prozess eines geteilten/gemeinsamen anstatt eines singulären Ausdrucks zu produzieren. Kritisch diskutiert er BAVOs „truly radical critique“ von sogenannter „NGOKunst“. Dabei betont Grant Kester die Rolle von Betrachtenden, KollaborateurInnen und Teilnehmenden als radikale Position, der er über das „Dialogische“ zwischen AutorInnen und RezipientInnen eine wesentliche Kraft von Entscheidung einräumt. Die Kunsthistorikerin und Kulturpolitikerin Yvette Masson-Zanussi befasst sich seit vielen Jahren aktiv auf EU-Ebene mit Agenden eines neues Planungswesens und war bis 2013 im EFAP – European Forum for Architectural Policies in Brüssel tätig. 2013 gründete sie die europäische Platform for Architecture, Culture and Territory (PACT).

Einführung

Die Künstlerinnen Christine und Irene Hohenbüchler stellen ein aktuelles Projekt ihrer kollaborativen künstlerischen Praxis vor, die sie seit vielen Jahren mit verschiedenen sozialen Institutionen verfolgen. Die Hinterfragung von künstlerischer Autorenschaft haben sie erstmals dezidiert bei der documenta X positioniert, indem sie das Projekt, das sie mit der Lebenshilfe Lienz erarbeiteten, explizit als „Multiple Autorenschaft“ signierten. Emscher.schul.Kunst führten sie im Rahmen des übergreifenden Vermittlungsprogramms der EMSCHERKUNST.2013 durch. Mit SchülerInnen einer Gesamtschule aus einem Stadtgebiet mit hohem MigrantInnen anteil entwickelten sie Möblierungen für den Schulhof. Dabei loteten sie sowohl Probleme als auch Potenziale sowie Sichtbarkeiten des gemeinsamen Handelns aus. Ihre Position – und jene ähnlich engagierter KünstlerInnen – wird auch heute noch als Angriff auf das (gängige) KünstlerInnenbild wahrgenommen und fordert explizit dazu heraus, das Rollenbild von KünstlerInnen zu hinterfragen. Umso mehr stellen diese künstlerischen Handlungsweisen einen wesentlichen Beitrag dar, wenn wir die Rolle von Kunst im gesellschaftlichurbanen Kontext neu diskutieren. Diese gesellschaftlich engagierte künstlerische Praxis darf dabei nicht als Alibifunktion behandelt werden, die die Politik aus ihrer Verantwortung entlässt. Umso mehr müssen wir uns der Frage stellen, wie diese neuen Kunstpraktiken nicht nur als Expertise der neuen Urban Practitioners in eine sozial engagierte neue Form der Stadtplanung Eingang finden, sondern auch als eine neue Form des Kunstsammelns im Kunstmarkt etabliert werden können. Die Soziologin und Kulturkritikerin Anette Baldauf führt uns zurück zu den Anfängen der Gentrifizierung in Soho, New York, und endet mit Detroit als traurigem Paradebeispiel einer „shrinking city“, das nun eine Transformation aufgrund der günstigen Grundstückspreise erlebt. Dadurch werden vermehrt KünstlerInnen angelockt, die nun womöglich eine andere Form von Aufschwung initiieren können. Die Prekarität der Lebensumstände von KünstlerInnen wird somit in einen neuen Kontext gesetzt, der die Themen von Aufwertung bis zu Gentrifizierung und Verdrängungsprozessen einer differenzierteren Betrachtung unterziehen muss. Welche neuen Formen gemeinschaftlichen Handelns gibt es, die neue Werte jenseits des rein auf ökonomischen Gewinn ausgerichteten Handelns propagieren? Dazu existiert mittlerweile eine Vielzahl von Initiativen, von denen wir hier nur einige Projekte und Ansätze darstellen können. Sie wurden unter dem Aspekt ausgewählt, eine längerfristige Auswirkung auf Stadtplanung zu verfolgen. osservatorio urbano/Lungomare ist ein Beispiel für eine übergreifende Praxis zwischen Beobachten und Agieren, das mit dem offenen Stadtlabor (osservatorio urbano) einen vielschichtigen Veranstaltungsort in Bozen etablierte und ebenso Projekte zu relevanten urbanen Fragestellungen durchführt. In ihrem Beitrag zeigen sie ihre experimentelle Vorgangsweise, die die üblichen Rollen (auch durch ihre eigene Praxis zwischen Architektur, Grafik und Veranstaltung) überschreitet, anhand von Jederland – einem Projekt, indem sie einen konkreten Bereich in Bozen von InvestorInneninteressen freistellen wollen. Sette per Sette ist ein Rollenspiel und führt die Taktik des Rollenwechsels vor, um eine neue Perspektive auf scheinbar bekannte Situationen zu werfen und somit vorgefasste Einschätzungen zu hinterfragen.

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In ihrem Text über „commoning“ fragen Stefan Gruber, Architekt and Urbanist, und Anette Baldauf, Soziologin, ob die Idee der „commons“ eine neue Strategie sein könnte, kapitalistische Ansätze und Gentrifizierungs mechanismen zu stören. Dabei adressieren sie die „Krise des Kapitalismus“, Umwelt- und Ökologiefragen sowie technologische Innovationen, um eine urbane Praxis als „commoning“ zu entwerfen, die eher Fragen stellt als Lösungen findet. transparadiso stellt Commons kommen nach Liezen vor – ein „Kunstmodell“, das kollektives Handeln über ein langfristig orientiertes Kunstprojekt im öffentlichen Raum in der Form eines zeitgenössischen ökonomischen Gegenmodells etablieren möchte. Die Erwartungshaltung an Kunst, Probleme zu lösen, wird an die Bevölkerung zurückgespiegelt. Ein Pavillon wird im Stadtpark, der auch heute noch als (vergessene) Allmende funktioniert, errichtet und als Skulptur mit Tangram-Steinen gefüllt, die als „Minimal Sculptures“ zum Verkauf angeboten werden. Der Erlös fließt in die weitere, kollektive Nutzung des Pavillons ein und fordert somit die Verantwortung der Bevölkerung, aktiv über neue Formen gemeinwirtschaftlichen Handelns nachzudenken und initiativ zu werden. Die Beiträge des letzten Kapitels „Nach dem Applaus“ betrachten – ebenso wie auch das Thema des Workshops 4 – die Situation, wenn Kunst nicht mehr da ist – nach dem Spektakel, nach der Kulturhauptstadt, nach der Biennale, nach dem kurzfristigen Event –, wenn „business as usual“ einkehrt. Was bleibt? Wie weiter? Wie können Erkenntnisse zeitlich begrenzter künstlerisch-urbaner Interventionen längerfristig wirksam werden? Regina Bittner, Kulturwissenschaftlerin und Kuratorin am Bauhaus Dessau, rekurriert in ihren „Feldversuchen“ auf die SituationistInnen: Ausgehend von Abdoumaliq Simones Stadtbeschreibungen unternimmt sie eine (Zeit-)Reise zu einem Neudenken von Stadt nach Henri Lefebvre, den SituationistInnen und Bernard Rudofsky und zeigt anschließend Tendenzen neuer Praktiken auf. Der Künstler, Kurator, Vortragende und Theroetiker Paul O’Neill befasst sich intensiv mit „durational practices“, d. h. mit der langfristigen Wirksamkeit von Kunst im öffentlichen Raum. Er überschreitet gegenwärtige Diskussionen über das Kuratieren, Public Art und urbane Praxis entlang folgender Stränge: Das offene Konzept des „curatorial“ (Kuratorischen) – eine Konstellation, die auch parakuratorische Praktiken enthält –, betont die Bedeutung von „public time“ (öffentlicher Zeit) als „cohabitational time“ gegenüber jener des öffentlichen Raums. Der Aspekt der „attentive ness“ (Aufmerksamkeit) basiert auf Alois Riegls Konzept und reichert die Bandbreite von Urban Practitioners über die Methode der Häufung von Rollenwechseln an. Den Aspekt zu betrachten, in welchem Rahmen Kunstprojekte im öffentlich-urbanen Raum produziert werden und wer diese unter welchen Erwartungshaltungen initiiert und finanziert, ist ein durchgängiges Thema dieser Publikation. Werden Projekte im Rahmen von Großereignissen wie europäischen Kulturhauptstädten oder Biennalen realisiert, sind sie – zumindest in ihrer öffentlichen Sichtbarkeit – von vornherein zeitlich begrenzt. Zahlreiche Biennalen wurden im letzten Jahrzehnt weltweit gegründet, und ein Ende dieses Gründungsbooms ist noch nicht absehbar. Viele befassen sich dabei auch mit Fragen des öffentlichen Raums (wie die Gwangju Biennale) bzw. mit der Rolle, die Kunst in der Stadtentwicklung spielt, um letztendlich die Aufmerksamkeit der internationalen Kunstöffentlichkeit auf

Einführung

Städte zu ziehen, die abseits des internationalen Kunst(markt)geschehens liegen. Die langfristigen Auswirkungen auf eine Stadt oder eine Region sind schwer quantifizierbar. „Was bleibt?“ ist also eine offene, aber keine rhetorische Frage. Deshalb haben wir Alisa Prudnikova, die Direktorin der Ural Industrial Biennial in Jekaterinburg, zum Symposium eingeladen. Die Ural Industrial Biennial findet im Kontext der postindustriellen Transformation der Stadt statt, die immer noch von Schwerindustrie geprägt, aber mittlerweile vom „wilden Kapital“, dessen Auswirkungen direkt in der Stadtentwicklung sichtbar sind, dirigiert wird. Der Kurator Valentin Dyakonov berichtet hier über A Piece of Europe in a Winter Garden, welches er für die 2. Ural Industrial Biennial in Jekaterinburg (2012) realisierte. Er thematisiert die Geschichte des Museum of Fine Arts als öffentlichen Raums mit dessen vielschichtigem, historischem Hintergrund, der sich anhand des KaslinskyPavillons und in der Replik eines urbanen Raums von Paris im Innenraum des Museums widerspiegelt. Dabei verbindet er kritisch das „erbarmungslose“ Jekaterinburg und seine Geschichte bis zur globalisierten Biennale. Die abschließenden Beiträge des Buches konzentrieren sich wieder auf die aktuelle Situation in Österreich. Sie widmen sich langfristig angelegten und andauernden Projekten in Linz und in Judenburg und geben damit gleichzeitig einen Ausblick auf die Zukunft. Der „angewandte Soziologe“ Peter Arlt hat sich in den letzten Jahren vor allem auf ein Viertel konzentriert: das Franckviertel in Linz. Unspektakulär berichtet er von seiner ortsbezogenen Tätigkeit und von Erfahrungen mit der Stadtverwaltung und den BewohnerInnen des Franckviertels, denen er seit vielen Jahren in langwierigem Engagement all seine Aufmerksamkeit widmet. Das Insistieren und die Beharrlichkeit, mit denen Peter Arlt sich diesem Viertel verschreibt, sind damit beispielhaft für die meist unsichtbare Arbeit, die Urban Practitioners leisten – und die so diametral im Gegensatz zu dem steht, was als sichtbarer Erfolg von ArchitektInnen, StadtplanerInnen und Stadtplanungsämtern gern gefeiert wird. transparadiso stellt Paradise Enterprise als exemplarisches Projekt für direkten Urbanismus in Judenburg vor. Künstlerisch-urbane Strategien wurden hier als wesentliche Aspekte für eine langfristig gesellschaftsorientierte Stadtplanung entwickelt, die sich mit der Problematik einer schrumpfenden Stadt und Region befasst und deshalb vor allem Perspektiven für die Jugend eröffnen möchte. Von der Entwicklung urbaner Tools wie dem Floß AMAMUR bis zur Neuinterpretation des ehemaligen Paradiesgartens als eines neuen zentralen urban-öffentlichen Raums für die gesamte Stadt wird eine Perspektive für Judenburg entwickelt, die davon getragen ist, zunehmend verschiedene Schichten der Bevölkerung aktiv zu involvieren und somit „Selbstermächtigung“ und Eigeninitiative zu stärken. Zum Abschluss von Paradise Enterprise wird ein exemplarischer Katalog von Tools und Strategien des direkten Urbanismus veröffentlicht, der anderen Städten und AuftraggeberInnen als Referenz dienen soll. Planning Unplanned ist der Versuch, Diskurse und Praktiken so zusammenzubringen, dass ein konkretes „learning from“ der sich immer noch fremden Disziplinen und der verschiedenen an Stadtentwicklung und „urban issues“ beteiligten Expertisen erfolgen kann. Ein Auftakt, die Schere zwischen Theorie und Praxis zu überwinden, ein offenes Feld, das kontinuierlich angereichert werden soll und Konflikten einen Raum einräumt. Das uns zeigt, dass Planung in der Form, wie wir sie seit Jahrzehnten kennen,

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dringend die Offenheit braucht, sich Ungeplantem und Unplanbarem auszusetzen. Dass Kunst jenen Raum in der Gesellschaft einnehmen und ihre Unabhängigkeit waren muss, um Visionen zu verfolgen und – auch unlieb same – Fragen zu stellen, die sonst niemand stellt. Dafür muss auf verschiedenen Ebenen ein Umdenken stattfinden. Eitelkeiten in Form der oftmals vorherrschenden und damit auch verhindernden Verteidigung von Terrains angestammter Rollen und Disziplinen müssen überwunden werden. Dafür soll die fluide und nicht definierte Rolle von Urban Practitioners ein Ausgangspunkt sein. Der Prozess der Auseinandersetzung muss als offenes (Handlungs-)Feld weiterverfolgt werden – wenn wir die anstehenden Fragen in Bezug auf Stadtentwicklung und die Möglichkeiten der Urban Practitioners in einer emanzipierten Rolle sowohl in der Zivilgesellschaft als auch in der Politik ernst nehmen wollen. Soziale und gesellschaftliche Werte sind nicht über statistische Auswertungen messbar. Wir müssen uns davon verabschieden, in simplifizierten Kategorien von „Erfolg“ und „Scheitern“ zu denken. Somit liegt auch dieser Publikation der Wunsch zugrunde, Denk- und Handlungsräume freizusetzen, anstatt einzuordnen und zu quantifizieren. Sie ist also nicht Abschluss einer bestimmten Phase der Auseinandersetzung, sondern als Zeitschnitt zu verstehen, als Plädoyer für Umwertungen und für das Betrachten neuer Werte gesellschaftlichen Zusammenlebens jenseits von Gewinnmaximierung. Diese Publikation ist vor allem jenen gewidmet, die das Scheitern und das Zweifeln an bestehenden Strukturen als Produktivkraft sehen und die sich auch genau deshalb immer wieder dazu anstacheln lassen, das Unmögliche zu wollen. Ich möchte allen danken, die Planning Unplanned unterstützt und daran mitgewirkt haben: insbesondere Christine Hohenbüchler als Vorstand des Instituts für Kunst und Gestaltung 1 / TU Wien für die Ermöglichung des Projekts und ihre Unterstützung; Karin Reisinger für ihre wertvolle Kritik, ihre Anregungen und die Bearbeitung der Texte; Inge Manka und Karin Harather für ihr Feedback in der ersten Phase des Forschungsprojekts; Mick Wilson und Paul O’Neill für ihr Vertrauen, ihren Input und die Unterstützung dieses Projekts; Paul Rajakovics für die andauernden und anregenden Diskussionen und unsere langjährige Zusammenarbeit, auf denen meine Initiative zu Planning Unplanned und diese Publikation basieren; unseren transparadiso-MitarbeiterInnen, insbesondere Matthias Jahn und Jan Watzak-Helmer, die uns durch ihre positive Energie und ihren unermüdlichen Einsatz so konstruktiv darin unterstützen und bestärken, immer wieder neues und unabgesichertes Terrain zu beschreiten; und all jenen, die die Möglichkeiten dieses Projekts aufgegriffen und damit die nächsten Schritte eingeleitet haben, insbesondere Barbara Putz-Plecko und Bettina Leidl.

Einführung—Barbara Holub

Planning

Unplanned

PLANNING UNPLANNED—TOWARDS A NEW POSITIONING OF ART IN THE CONTEXT OF URBAN DEVELOPMENT [ Barbara Holub ]

1_New Challenges for Cities and Urban Public Space in the Post-Industrial Era What is missing from current urban developments? “Missing things” were the topic of “The First World Congress of the Missing Things”, an “unusual congress” that was actually an art project dealing with urban issues in Baltimore and presented in urban public space (2014). Far beyond this specific urban and sociopolitical context, missing things can be considered paradig matic for recent urban development in many places, almost regardless of the context. Missing things in urban development are prevalent, visible, invisible, abundant, diverse, and have a societal impact on many levels. Yet rather than dismissing these missing things as something lacking, I consider them to be a chance. They are the basis of nourishment for this text—and for the urban practitioner as well. Therefore, this text itself can be read as being open space. I will start by providing a short description of the background and context and telling why I, as an artist, decided to undertake the endeavor of an (open-ended) artistic research project. Then I will explore how missing things could be reconsidered and used as a basis for formulating artistic urban tools and strategies to enhance and enable new, process-orientated modes of planning. These will be exemplified mainly by referring to two of our projects, “Paradise Enterprise” and “The First World Congress of the Missing Things”. Ongoing flows of labor migration, which continue to produce completely new situations in cities and regions, raise complex issues for urban planning. Globalization has caused labor forces to relocate, and outsourcing to countries with lower wages is still a long and ongoing process. These movements are behind shifts away from former industrial areas, which continue to shrink. In other parts of the world, particularly in the so-called 2nd or 3rd world countries and especially China, new cities are built from scratch within short periods of time. With the fall of the Iron Curtain, new markets have become available and accessible, thus prolonging the governance of the neoliberal economy. The effects have been widely discussed and also criticized from the perspective of opponents of the globalized neoliberal economy. However, the critique stems mostly from theoreticians (social scientists, philosophers, art critics, and urban researchers such as David Harvey, Saskia Sassen, and Richard Sennett), activists, and artists—but not from urban planners. When I studied architecture in the 1980s, the master plan was still considered to be the most suitable means of envisioning urban development. The criteria for planning seemed predictable. However, over the last thirty years, this

Planning Unplanned

assumption of predictability has changed fundamentally, a change boosted by additional aspects such as the continuous and increasing flows of migration. Since we are still confronted with an overriding defense of globalized systems governed by neoliberal interests, it is not surprising that urban planners and urban planning departments, closely intertwined with economic interests and increasingly dependent on public–private partnerships, have not yet incorporated new methods for coping with these changing parameters into their urban and regional planning. Such incorporation would necessitate the recognition of social and societal issues as being of equal importance to the conventional planning categories (like density, heights of buildings, etc.) represented in a master plan. Since the mid-1990s, artists and urbanists have taken an increasing interest in urban issues from their respective perspectives. Artists developed “critical spatial practices”, whereas urbanists called their new approaches “new urban tools and strategies” in order to overcome the boundaries of conventional urban planning methods. While artists like Thomas Hirschhorn or Wochenklausur {01} were already engaging in early projects directed at the (social) problematics of specific communities and inviting residents to be active participants, urbanists like muf (London) or transbanana (Graz, Austria) {02} developed objects as tools for performative actions in urban space and used strategies like the shifting of time zones to create new narratives and a different, direct experience of urban space. {03} Our own studio, transparadiso, which Paul Rajakovics and I founded in 1999, was based on the conviction that new, transdisciplinary approaches situated between art and urbanism were needed to bridge the gap between the current demands on urban design and urban development—if considered in their societal complexity—and the inadequacy and insufficiency of the conventional urban planning tools. In spite of many of these practices having evolved over the last 10 to 15 years and raising an increasing interest in the art context, we had to realize that—as mentioned above—these new artistic urbanism practices have not yet managed to find their way into established planning procedure. In the art context, participatory projects and projects that encourage critical engagement by addressing urban issues usually remain temporary, for example during an art biennial or at a cultural capital, or they are misused for “temporary use”. Artists and so-called “creatives” are given spaces on an interim basis, preparing ground for revaluation, which often results in gentrification processes. The counteraction of these short-term interests and the abyss of displacement and gentrification by taking an inclusive approach towards urban development was the background and the reason why transparadiso coined their transdisciplinary practice direct urbanism. The term direct urbanism references direct action (Emma Goldman) and means the incorporation of artistic strategies and art projects into socially and societally inclusive, long-term urban planning processes. {04} What follows is an attempt to give a by no means complete overview of the current challenges and problems of urban development. It must be emphasized that the contexts of the various problems are very different. Each context must be carefully taken into consideration to avoid falling into the trap of generalization. The issues mentioned below are recurrent in many cities and regions around the Western, “post-industrialized” world. However, the forms of manifestation and impacts on the societal fabric are unique and require specialized approaches depending on the many different local parameters and political and legal frameworks.

Barbara Holub

Both their practices and also the question of participation have been widely discussed. See Grant Kester: The One and the Many; and Actors, Agents and Attendants_Social Housing– Housing the Social: Art, Property and Spatial Justice, Andrea Phillips, Fulya Erdemci (eds.), SKOR, Sternberg Press, 2012, on the aesthetics of Thomas Hirschhorn’s work.

transbanana (1995–1999) was made up of Paul Rajakovics, Margarethe Müller, and Bernd Vlay.

03 See “city joker” by transbanana, 1998. 04

For direct urbanism projects see e.g. Paradise Enterprise, Judenburg (A), 2012–2014, p. 238 ff. in this publication, and Barbara Holub/Paul Rajakovics Direct Urbanism, Verlag für moderne Kunst Nürnberg, 2013

1.1 Shrinking and Growing Since the 1980s, cities in the US, the former Soviet Union, and Europe have been widely affected by post-industrial structural changes, resulting in the shrinking of cities and in certain areas (such as the former GDR or Great Britain) the shrinking of entire regions. A 2004 seminal project titled “Shrinking Cities” {05} addressed these situations and their effects on populations and urban environments by investigating four cities: Halle-Leipzig, Germany (ex-GDR); Ivanovo, Russia; Liverpool, England; and Detroit, U.S. “Shrinking Cities” was initiated and directed by Philipp Oswalt and his team and produced a broad network of projects and urban interventions as the result of an open call advertised worldwide. The contexts and backgrounds of each of the four chosen cities were very different—in addition to the obvious differences between political and economic systems. The widespread interest of artists and trans- or multidisciplinary practices in these “shrinking cities” may also have been driven by a fascination with the exoticism of the selected cities; the consequence of deindustrialization in the former industrial countries has meanwhile, ten years later, reached the dimension of a complete shift of cities and regions on a broad scale—from production to the service industry. The ways that cities and regions deal with these problems range from transforming large scale industrial sites into cultural monuments in the hope of stimulating tourism (in the Ruhrgebiet in Germany), to discussing the closing down of entire towns (suggested by an art project in the Regionale 12 in Murau, Austria titled Oberwölz sperrt zu (Oberwölz Closes Down) {06} and the renaturalization of large areas of cities (as in the former GDR): Dessau-Roßlau is projected to shrink over the long term, evolving into a city with small, stable core areas with specific urban qualities. The core areas will be improved and their social networks strengthened. The demolition of surplus housing will occur mainly in the areas that lie between these, resulting in a coherent, central landscape zone: living in a green environment will become the norm. The landscape design will adopt principles from the Dessau-Wörlitz Garden Realm. The demolition sites will be planted with so-called “wild meadows”, which allow diverse and easily maintained landscapes to quickly flourish, forming the basis of the new landscape zone. The city offers citizens and initiatives the chance to sponsor specific plots of land, thereby taking responsibility for their maintenance and use. {07}

05 http://www.shrinkingcities.com 06 http://www.regionale12.at 07 http://www.iba-stadtumbau.de/ index.php?dessau-rosslau-en

08 http://www.iba-stadtumbau.de/ index.php?iba2010-en

This project was part of the International Building Exhibition (IBA) 2010 in Saxony-Anhalt addressing the shrinking of cities in the former GDR: “The IBA Urban Redevelopment Saxony-Anhalt 2010 embraces the federal state of Saxony-Anhalt as a laboratory for the city of tomorrow. Exemplary and innovative urban redevelopment tools are put to the test in 19 cities, which are affected by demographic change.” {08} Halle (Saale), for example, shrunk from 321,684 inhabitants in 1989 to 231,978 in 2009 and is projected to sink to 206,120 by 2025. The IBA worked together with local residents to develop concepts that enhance identification with one’s home town in spite of the difficult economic situation—a new approach implementing open processes rather than relying on top-down urban planning, which again shows the innovative potential of the IBA. Whereas at the IBA in Saxony-Anhalt—interestingly enough—art was not part of the project, in many other situations where cities were shrinking due to the postindustrial situation, (especially in the UK) huge sums have been allocated for large-scale public art schemes and the founding of art institu-

Planning Unplanned

tions for creating new signifiers and points of identity. The aim of revitalizing former industrial areas and cities is driven by various agendas ranging from involving critical contemporary art projects, to art being implemented as the driving factor for “arts-led regeneration”. {09} The call to establish creative industries in hopes of generating new income and attracting investments in rundown neighborhoods often results in gentrification processes, driving out the poor rather than reinvesting the new profits for providing inclusive programs for the people inhabiting the space prior to regeneration. While doing a residency in Plymouth, England in 2006, which was followed by the “More Opportunities” exhibition at the Plymouth Art Centre, I wanted to tie engaging in urban issues to the format of an exhibition, thus addressing diverse audiences. At that time, the Plymouth Arts Centre itself negotiated an opportunity to relocate to an area being revitalized at the waterfront. Yet I decided to focus on the other part of Plymouth, Devonport, where I examined the processes of regeneration after the Royal Navy Dockyard (the city’s main employer) had been privatized by Devonport Management Limited (DML), which resulted in a loss of more than 6,000 jobs (out of a total of 11,460) {10}. DML sold part of the property, which had once been the center of Devonport (before being destroyed in WWII), to the City of Plymouth. The city, instead of using this opportunity to create a contemporary urban public space and reconfiguring a new center of Devonport thus building perspectives for this deprived area, set up the urban development as a public–private partnership limited to housing—just like what has been happening in most of the new urban developments in numerous cities of Europe. The lost opportunities were epitomized by a visitor’s center being newly instated at the dockyards, where the very people forced into early retirement can now visit their former workplace as tourists. The silent demonstration I staged for “More Opportunities” was a reference to the first dockyard strike in 1969—a period in time when the workers could still take pride in their identity through their work being respected whereas today they are reduced to being the silent recipients of multinational companies’ decisions. In the case of Devonport, nobody was driven out (since the area of regeneration was the territory of the former naval base), but the chance to consider this empty land as having a new potential for creating an urban public space was missed. Of course a modest gesture like performing a silent demonstration neither creates an immediate hype nor triggers change on a large scale. Yet small gestures can accumulate and thus provoke change in the long run— starting with the people involved. If art wants to engage in contested contexts, the burning question remains: What can art actually do? How to counter expectations to functionalize art for (temporarily) covering up problems stemming from political decision-makers who dismiss their responsibility? The multitude of situations and formats, where art and/or the creative industries are expected to resolve economic problems of various scales range from dealing with empty ground floor areas in small towns and in cities all the way to repositioning entire regions. One of the largest undertakings in this field was RUHR 2010, a project that represented the first time that a European Capital of Culture focused not just on a city but on a whole region, the Ruhrgebiet, revitalizing one of the largest postindustrial areas in Europe by employing culture as an engine for regeneration. Before that, the significant art project “Kokerei Zollverein_Zeitgenössische Kunst und Kritik, 2001–2003” had paved the way for critical debate on the transformation of industrial areas in Essen. Curators Marius Babias and Florian Waldvogel conceived a long-term art program addressing the issues recently prevalent at the site,

Barbara Holub

E.g. Liverpool Biennial (http://www.biennial.com) and Tate Liverpool; “Gateshead” (http://www. newcastlegateshead.com) and the Baltic Centre for Contemporary Art, Newcastle (https://www.balticmill. com/); Gorbals Arts Project, Glasgow (http://www.gorbalsartsproject.co.uk)

10 http://www.plymouthherald.co.

uk/6-460-jobs-lost-Yard-privatisation/ story-12675663-detail/story.html

11 http://www.zollverein.de/ welterbe/kunst-und-kultur

12 http://republicart.net/disc/ institution/babias01_en.pdf

The website of “Kokerei Zollverein_Contemporary Art and Critique, 2001–2003” has been taken offline, but publications like Arbeit, Essen, Angst (Work, Food, Fear), Stiftung Industriedenkmalpflege und Geschichtskultur, 2001, remain vital.

Per capita income was $24,155 in 2010; non-Hispanic whites were 28% of the population in 2010, compared to 80.6% in 1940; http://quickfacts. census.gov/qfd/states/24/24510.html

E.g., the Hutzler’s Department Store, built in 1858, was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1984. It closed down in 1990.

For more information on the situation in Baltimore, see “The First World Congress of the Missing Things”, p. 156 ff. in this publication.

namely the spatial and meanwhile historical context and the presence or respective absence of workers. This ambitious and critically engaged art project came to an abrupt and early halt in 2003, when priority was given to large-scale investments which turned the UNESCO world heritage site into a “vibrant site for art, culture and creative industry”. {11} As Marius Babias states: “Losses are still socialized, whereas profits are privatized.” {12} What remains from that first period is the Werksschwimmbad, a public pool installed for unemployed workers by artists Dirk Paschke and Daniel Milohnic. It is now a major attraction for local youth and the general public. {13} However, shrinking must not be thought of as a mono-directional phenomenon. It is interlinked with large migration movements and displacements resulting from war and the simple need to survive, which produce the growth of other areas. Growth can occur through planning (such as in new cities in China) or unplanned (for example through unresolved political and economic situations producing endless streams of refugees). In U.S. cities such as Baltimore, processes are also complex but different, as shrinking and growing are spatially and geographically directly intertwined. The City of Baltimore was emptied by “white flight”, or well-off white people leaving the city in the wake of the de-industrialization that began in the 1950s. These people moved to the suburbs, taking their capital with them. No more taxes, no more revenue, and no more investment, equates the decline of the city, whereas the outskirts of Baltimore have turned into one of the richest (predominantly white) areas in the States. The population of the City of Baltimore dropped from 950,000 in 1950 to 620,000 in 2012, with 64% of the population being African-American and a significant portion of inhabitants living below the poverty line. {14} The formerly grand city center and around Howard Street boasted luxurious department stores in the 1920s, conveying the glory of wealth and consumption in abundant open floors and flights of stairs the like of which could only be seen in department stores in Paris. {15} Meanwhile, this downtown area has undergone major decay and is today predominantly boarded up. Trees grow out of empty windows, and ground-floor façades have been “beautified”, i.e. painted dark grey. Five minutes away from the inner harbor area, which was redeveloped in the early 1980s to cater to tourism and consumption, the inner city Howard Street area obviously has a high potential property value. A couple of buildings have already been renovated and now carry signs touting “luxury loft apartments available for sale”, whereas just around the corner the “World Famous Lexington Market” shows the tragedy of people lost in a system with little to no social care or programs to help cope with the complex social problems of this segregated city. {16} But there are many other cities like Baltimore along the “Iron Belt” (including Pittsburg and Philadelphia) that are less present in the international public awareness, whereas Detroit (one of the cities researched by the Shrinking Cities project) has become the “master sample” for endless projects carried out by architecture students fascinated by the extreme, almost exotic atmosphere this shrinking city has produced (it is even a coveted location for films, including Jim Jarmusch’s Only Lovers Left Alive, 2013). In recent years, artists have increasingly been moving to Detroit due to the cheap real estate. This could be the beginning of a reverse process, if new legal conditions are provided to protect them from being driven out by developers who sense the potential of an unexpected change—thus repeating the circle of gentrification yet again. But regional flows of population between shrinking and growing also stem from reasons other than de-industrialization and the shift of labor

Planning Unplanned

markets. In Austria and Germany, empty ground floor areas are a major problem for cities and towns. Long-established small shops and specialized retail stores have had to close due to the homogenization of products on the global market. At the same time, large shopping agglomerations (with a reduced variety of merchandise from always the same globalized brands) were constructed outside the city limits. In bigger cities, these shopping areas are usually situated in proximity to industrial sites, whereas in the countryside they are generally built near traffic hubs, leaving traditional town centers several kilometers away and well beyond the pedestrian flow of customers. These shopping hubs drain the tax flow from municipalities responsible for financing infrastructure (like roads and highways) and generate new wealth in these “communities without identity”. The tax drain emulates problems known from U.S. cities, fifty years later. The changing conditions in cities and towns and their relationship with the surrounding regions have created a new hybrid, the “city in-between” or the “transitional city”. German architect Thomas Sieverts researched this concept intensively in his seminal publication Zwischenstadt, {17} investigating the extent to which the concept of the “European city” does or does not remain valid today. Empty ground-floor areas have been an ongoing topic for numerous art projects and possible uses by the creative industries. {18} Rather than politics addressing the issue at its root (decisions based solely on economic interests), artists, architects, and curators are invited (or initiate projects themselves) to temporarily revive these empty spaces. If owners agree, they do so in hopes of generating new interest of possible tenants willing to pay a “market price”. If the projects do not show immediate (economic) results, shop owners withdraw from the next step. In spite of ambitious projects, e.g. in Vienna in the early 2000s like making it {19} or Unternehmen Capricorn, {20} what remains is the status quo. The former vital veins of Viennese districts are today characterized by large, empty ground-floor areas. So far no long-term concept for their use (below the supposed “market price”) could be installed on a political level, since this would mean negotiating an innovative concept for right of use with the owners. {21} As mentioned above, another big challenge of the changing urban and rural conditions in the European context are migration flows caused by imbalanced economic situations and lack of perspectives (e.g. after the fall of the Iron Curtain in 1989), war (Afghanistan, Iraq, Chechnya, and more), and the current refugee influx from North Africa triggered by the Arab Spring. These situations not only require new political frameworks on a European scale, they also call for developing new ways for different cultures and religions to cohabitate on a small scale in cities, towns, and neighborhoods. Since the friction that occurs mostly arises from a lack of knowledge about the mutually “foreign” cultures, artists are called upon or else initiate projects on their own intended to improve communication, either as a direct or underlying goal of the project. transparadiso included an interreligious prayer room in their submission to an architecture competition for a new residential complex in Salzburg-Lehen, based on the idea that a large number of future inhabitants would have a migration background. However, the prayer room could not be realized in the Stadtwerk Lehen. As we heard, politicians were too scared to be identified with taking, with such public visibility, a stand that acknowledges the religious values of residents with a migration background. This is just one example that shows why it is so important to demand responsibility from politicians, to call for them to act beyond their own personal interests in being reelected, and to instead publicly show their

Barbara Holub

Thomas Sieverts, Zwischenstadt: Zwischen Ort und Welt, Raum und Zeit, Stadt und Land (Bauwelt Fundamente, Buch 118), 2000.

See also the recent publication Räume kreativer Nutzungen. Potenziale für Wien, Verlag für moderne Kunst, 2014.

“Making it_a storefront discussion of new Viennese architecture” by Mark Gilbert and Wolfgang Niederwieser was one of the first projects in Vienna dealing with that topic in 2000 and “Making it 2_Sprache der Straße” (2004) extended the use of empty stores for one year.

20 For Unternehmen Capricorn, 2001,

artist Christoph Steinbrener turned empty stores in the up-and-coming 2nd district of Vienna into “temporary branches” of ten Viennese museums (like the Sigmund Freud Museum, the Jewish Museum, etc.), thereby also discussing the role and disposition of a museum.

Architect Roland Gruber took a different direction: with Leerstands zentrale, he conceived a workshop model for generating ideas on new uses for empty ground floor areas with towns thus accepting the prevalent economic conditions.

commitment to solving societal issues. A recent sad example of the issues of shrinking and expansion being addressed on a larger political scale is the case of a deportation detention center for asylum seekers and irregular migrants to Europe in Vordernberg. Vordernberg is a small town in rural Styria, a province of Austria, and suffers from the effects of shrinking. In order to provide jobs and acquire federal funding, the town decided to build the detention center as a “guiding project for all of Europe, with a high humanitarian approach,” {22} and the winning architects, Sue Architects from Vienna, emphasized the building’s architectural quality. Here the demagogy of problems resulting from our neoliberal system is epitomized. Both shrinking towns and architects need jobs. The town, Vordernberg, acts in favor of providing employment and, out of despair, they agree to build a detention center, thus accepting and perpetuating the inhumane conditions of a “walled Europe”. The architects accept the conditions—and provide quality architecture. This means they all act out of good intentions, yet fail to address the underlying problematic of a “walled Europe” which defends its wealth against “intruders”, who are considered a threat and therefore deported. Basic humanitarian rights are neglected. Which societal values do we still adhere to in Europe? No matter on which scale—on a city level but also on regional and European levels—an understanding for change of the urban and regional social fabric must be enhanced and considered a valuable input for a new, communal living together. Rather than being pushed aside as “problems”, or being “outsourced”, the needs of refugees and migrants (no matter what political or economical reason has caused them to risk their lives) need to be acknowledged as an agenda integral to a socially minded society and thus to urban development.

See, e.g.: http://steiermark.orf.at/ news/stories/2625379/

1.2 Urbanity and Urban Public Life The question of how to create urbanity is considered to be the key to successful urban development, and to maintaining a vibrant city with a historical context. Urbanity is almost a magical word, seeming to provide all that is needed to achieve a pleasant and successful urban life. But what is meant by this promising term? What is considered “urban” today transgresses the notion of urban as being the opposite of rural. Pseudo-urban (i.e. often privately owned) “public” spaces mostly convey a single notion of “urban life”, namely spaces of consumption. These spaces are often newly implanted on the fringes of towns and cities in new urban developments, in shopping malls and transitional spaces like train stations—while actual urban centers lose the mix of qualities that was once considered “urban”—spaces of communal exchange, of festive public activities and rituals, spaces of anonymous encounter and conflictual interests. However, if we define urbanity as a sense of belonging, as providing a certain anonymity and choice of company, as being in public space amongst others yet at the same time having the freedom to stay alone, as having choices in terms of interaction and communication, this requires conditions for interaction, and spaces for pursuing disparate and conflicting interests. Spaces providing these options, where frictions and ruptures are allowed for and changes can be felt over time, need time to develop. Therefore the question is: How can we augment these conditions in new urban developments, in a fast-forward mode, so to speak? How can we condense time, yet at the same time provide time for the unplanned? How can we develop narratives that enhance unplanned interaction and contradiction, which are the source of complex communal and societal cohabitation and exchange?

Planning Unplanned

That is why artists involved in new residential areas and areas in transition often create narratives and new scenarios themselves and/or involve residents. {23} Referring to the new urban development in Munich-Riem, sociologist Hartmut Häußermann argues that, “A vital urban city as a place worth living in is, however, based on a greater range of preconditions than can be created merely by manipulating its external appearance. Those responsible for the Messestadt Riem are aware of this fact, as are the artists they have commissioned, and therefore they have not restricted themselves to ‘art’ as a product but have understood and organised it as an element in the process through which the city develops. This is indicated in the way that the boundaries of isolated art production are crossed as well as in the expansion of those areas in which artistic work intervenes as communication, alienation, and refinement—in short as a way to deeper reflection of the circumstances of life and the urbanity of the newly created living environment.” {24} He questions whether urbanity can be planned, and extracts three qualities “that describe scenes that are rich in experience: non-uniformity, non-simultaneity and non-parity (non-equality) of value.” {25} In the mid-1990s, Heinz Schütz directed the study (commissioned by the City of Munich), which was the basis for a public art project titled “kunstprojekte_riem”. {26} The project aimed to accompany the transformation of the former Munich airport grounds into the Messestadt Riem, a large new residential area built around the fairgrounds. The essential questions were the same as in other large scale new urban developments: {27} How can a city be constructed next to an existing city, embody an urban way of life, yet still be a part of the already existing city? And even more relevant today: How can the notorious marketing strategies of developers, who invest enormous amounts of money in creating the same bland aesthetics of “latte-macchiato-isation”, be counteracted? Can these budgets be shifted towards involving long-term artistic urbanism strategies to improve the social cohabitation of people of different backgrounds? And the essential question of Planning Unplanned is: Which role can art play within long-term urban development processes? What are the conditions for direct urbanism? 1.3 Social Housing and the Social “The Residualization of the Social” {28} is an interview with Doreen Massey by Andrea Phillips, in which they discuss changing conditions in the UK and the disappearance of the welfare state, from which they both benefited, having grown up in social housing. Today, the ethos of the welfare state providing collective social security “has been taken away and turned into its obverse: now, if you depend on the State, then you are dependent, not part of a whole system based on an ethos.” In the UK, “the architecture of council housing has been one of the most extraordinary sites of innovation in the past.” However, many outstanding projects in London (including ones by Lubetkon and Lasdun) have now been privatized.” Architecturally they are transformed from icons of social space to fractured symbols of the private sphere.” Robin Hood Gardens, one of the few realized architecture projects by Peter and Alison Smithson in 1972, was demolished in 2013, making way for the regeneration of that now lucrative area of East London and the maximization of profits. {29} The project was just one of the many sad examples of outstanding architecture being insufficiently maintained and subsequently blamed for social problems and poor living conditions. “The residualization of the social” is a vital issue, and should be considered the baseline for all new urban develop-

Barbara Holub

See e.g. Once Upon a Future by Stealth Unlimited, Bordeaux, 2011; http://www.stealth.ultd.net

Hartmut Häußermann, “How does a city district become urban?”, in kunstprojekte_riem, Springer Verlag, 2004, Landeshauptstadt München, Claudia Büttner (eds.), p. 230.

Ibid., p. 238.

For further information see: Stadt. Kunst, Heinrich Schütz (ed.), 2001.

See also “Missing Things as Potential for the Unplanned”, p. 47 ff., addressing the urban developments in Utrecht/Leidsche Rijn and Vienna/ Aspern Lake City.

28 This interview was published in Actors, Agents and Attendants_Social Housing–Housing the Social: Art, Property and Spatial Justice, Andrea Phillips, Fulya Erdemci (eds.), SKOR, Sternberg Press, 2012, p. 52 ff. 29

The Blackwall Reach regeneration project promises 1,575 new, highquality homes to replace the modest 219 apartments at Robin Hood Gardens–where the garden was considered a central element. http://blackwallreach.co.uk/index. php/regeneration-caught-on-camera/

ments. Vienna’s radically innovative period of public housing in the 1920s, known as the “Red Vienna era”, still contributes largely to Vienna’s international reputation in the architectural discourse, since it introduced ambitious new formats of communal cohabitation. Communal infrastructure such as laundry rooms, community centers, courtyards, kindergartens, and schools provided a feeling of belonging and sharing. Apart from this public housing infrastructure, the other crucial aspect of social housing in Vienna was that it was distributed throughout all districts (even the bourgeois old town) thus creating a social mix. Today, the question of belonging is more relevant than ever. Is belonging primarily associated with ownership, property ownership in particular, and how is this related to having power? Or does possession mean belonging to a social structure, an idea? Doreen Massey reversed the question, “What does it mean to belong to a place?” instead asking, “Does this place belong to us?” She argues that “such a question should bring new migrants and (already ethnically mixed) working class people together, because none of them owns the place.” In the context of Vienna, Doreen Massey’s question “Does this place belong to us?” needs to be expanded from the working class to include the middle class. Vienna traditionally has a socialist (and later social-democratic) city government, but since the so-called “financial crisis” of 2009, the question of possession has shifted away from belonging to a community and taking pride in being part of a social welfare system—no matter if one personally needs benefits beyond the public health care system, the public pension system, and occasional unemployment support or not—to a differentiation and distinction between the haves and have-nots. Real estate prices increased by 40% between 2007 and 2014, meaning that people considering purchasing an apartment to pad against the insufficiencies of the pension system are once again left out. {30} This is where the disappearance of the middle class first becomes visible. Now the question—and this does not just apply to Vienna—is: How can we make this place belong to us?

2_Towards a New Role for the Urban Practitioner

In 2012, 653,300 of Vienna’s 862,700 apartments were rented.

2.1 Different Backgrounds—Similar Interests— Changing Conditions In November 2012, right after I had held the “Planning Unplanned” conference in Vienna, I was invited to participate in “This Troublesome, Uncomfortable and Questionable Relevance of Art in Public Space_In Search of a Possible Paradigm” in Gdansk. The poetic title of the conference, curated by Adam Budak and Julia Draganovic, was indicative of the ambivalent role public art plays in urban development. The conference took place in an area undergoing urban renewal, not far from the Gdansk wharf where Lech Walesa had founded Solidarnosc in 1980. At one point, some young people approached us (the lecturers) during a break in the conference to ask for our support in preventing more wharf area buildings from being torn down, something which was slated to happen within the next few days. Why was it so clear that we would stay inside, continuing our discussions, while all around us, outside, things were happening that actually concerned the issues we were discussing? What makes conditions today seem so hopeless for actual change? Is it not too easy to succumb to the verdict that one is being naïve or just a dreamer? Is this submission not the best weapon in the prevention of change? Joana Warsza, who also participated in the “Troublesome” conference, was

Planning Unplanned

the person who introduced Antanas Mockus to the international art scene at the Berlin Biennial, 2012. Mayor of Bogotá at the time, he became famous for introducing anachronistic methods {31} to approach the huge problems of a society governed by the drug mafia, which had been considered unresolvable. In his sparkling intellectual personality he managed to combine multiple roles and actually used the method of what we at transparadiso call “shifting roles”, which we consider a main strategy for direct urbanism. A philosopher, he developed performative artistic strategies and applied them to resolving societal and urban problems. Antanas Mockus is an excellent example of the differentiation between art projects and artistic strategies—and also of how these practices do not necessarily need to emerge from art or urban planning. However, what is indeed needed is the will to achieve a goal, to change a situation. Conditions must not be generalized or compared on a superficial level. Recently more and more programs and art projects have begun discussing utopia again, something which is often desired and yet so far away. In order to counteract this distrust and epidemic helplessness, it can be helpful to look at singular personalities who have shown that pursuing an agenda other than personal interests and being genuine dedicated to the public interest can actually induce change. Antanas Mockus is not the only South American politician to set an example of direct and concrete change. When José Mujica was elected president of Uruguay in 2010 (after being locked in prison during the junta), he decided to continue living in his small, modest home and to donate 90% of his salary to charities benefiting poor people and small entrepreneurs. He has introduced programs such as the free distribution of computers to school kids to help combat illiteracy. But what does this have to do with art or the new role of the urban practitioner that I am proposing? It is essential to discuss how these roles become relevant and effective for societal issues. This cannot happen without involving politics, since art—like all other fields—is part of the system, and one could say that urban planning is the current system. If we consider the urban practitioner an advocate for change, this would mean revitalizing socialist ideas in a contemporary and democratic way, and turning the back to “collaborations” that merely comply with economic needs—as agreements like public–private partnerships (PPPs) usually do. Since the 1990s, PPPs have been marketed by city governments as a promising solution, since many cities actually do face bankruptcy (or at least scare residents, the public, with the possibility of it). Selling public property and state-owned companies has additionally contributed to a situation where private, profit-driven interests overrule public interests (e.g. providing services that are not profitable yet essential, such as public transport in rural areas). The transdisciplinary excursus of political contexts helps us look closer at the starting points and reasons why on the one hand some experimental architects and urbanists are looking for new formats and methods by developing urban interventions, and on the other hand artists have become involved in urban issues and urban development. Simultaneously, the excursus also aims to explain the different parameters of production. These conditions frame the challenges of the proposed new transdisciplinary and fluid role of the “urban practitioner”. The education and curriculum of architects and urban planners requires having broad insight and highlighting the complexity of today’s urban issues and the diverse interests involved. However, even today, in the 2010s, it is still mostly rooted in a quite traditional understanding of role models. These range from the “master architect” and the “artist genius”, to the developer-oriented,

Barbara Holub

When he wanted to revitalize a rundown, crime-ridden quarter of Bogotá, residents were afraid of being driven out after the revitalization and were therefore apprehensive. Antanas Mockus hired a theater company, Mapa teatro, to work with the people to address and act out their fears. Through this process, residents had the experience of being taken seriously and were able to build confidence that this quarter would still belong to them–yet have greatly improved living conditions. Another famous example of his unorthodox and highly successful methods of using acting to address serious urban problems was his hiring of pantomimes as traffic regulators. When he was elected Mayor of Bogotá, he was advised to wear a bullet-proof vest, but refused. His security advisors insisted and he finally gave in, but marked his heart on the bulletproof vest.

large-scale architectural production machine, the architect as a successful entrepreneur and businessman. This role has been refueled by unbelievably large-scale construction projects in China, Dubai, and elsewhere. In these projects, investors have neither the time nor the interest to consider failure or possibilities for new concepts for a contemporary city—notwithstanding their copying of U.S. cities (skyscrapers) combined with European historic city centers. The impact of the current conditions and challenges of urban development on social and societal levels has just barely been reflected or addressed by education so far—meaning that new architectural roles need to be discussed. Yet architects and urbanists are still trained to respond to commissions, to client briefs, or competitions. They are not encouraged to take action and hardly dare to contradict. Even if they do try to counteract or shift the brief, they still have to operate within certain limits or run the risk of being eliminated immediately. This responsive attitude is one of the fundamental differences to how artists, who generate their work topics themselves, act. As such, artists could be considered “pro-active” by definition, but this would be just as misleading as putting all architects and urbanists in the same category. Due to the complex requirements of the architecture curriculum, it is hardly surprising that the general architect’s knowledge on contemporary art often stops at the notion of “public art”, meaning art being added as an extra to a building (“Kunst-am-Bau”), or at a conventional understanding of art in public space (i.e. sculptures, or large-scale wall paintings in train and subway stations, etc.), without having any knowledge about the contemporary art discourse (this is often the case at universities of technology). New study programs responding to the needs of new roles have only slowly been emerging. The program “Social Design_Arts as Urban Innovation” was founded at the University of Applied Arts Vienna in 2012. In spite of the potentially misleading name, which could lead to design being misunderstood as a patronizing decision and misused for certain (economic) interests, programs like this are a chance to continue discussing the issues of Planning Unplanned and preparing the ground for the development of new transdisciplinary collaborations and practices. Transgressing the limits of progressing specialization and the often narrow perspective of a single expert in one discipline is one of the big challenges to deconstructing the hierarchies of decision-making mainly based on economic interests.

32 http://www.anarchitektur.com/ 33 http://www.pro-qm.de/ 34

Paul Rajakovics has been a member of the editorial board since 2000 and Barbara Holub since 2002; they introduced and curate the artist insert.

Dérive_radio for urban research: http://o94.at/radio/sendereihe/ derive/; broadcasts can be downloaded here: http://cba.fro.at/series/ derive-radio-fuer-stadtforschung

36 www.urbanize.at 37 http://das-gaengeviertel.info/

2.2 Critical Urbanistic and Spatial Practices At the same time that Occupying Architecture_Between the Architect and the User (edited by Jonathan Hill), a book that freshly discussed the first sprouts of experimental urban practices in the UK (muf) and critical theory (Jane Rendell) and was seminal for us, was published in 1998, other new practices began to emerge in Germany, the Netherlands, and Austria. In Berlin, Germany, the magazine An Architektur (2002) {32} and the pro qm library {33} were established. Public art programs like SKOR in the Netherlands engaged in practices driven by brand-new agendas like “new genre public art”. SKOR provided a resource for art engaging in urban issues and added to the world of theory by publishing a magazine entitled open. In Vienna, Austria, dérive_magazine for urban research was first published in 1999 {34}. Derived from a student fanzine, dérive has now become one of the most relevant German-language publications in the field. It continuously expands its activities through a radio program {35} and the annual urbanize festival {36}. Apart from public art organizations who commission projects, artist-activists like “Komm in die Gänge” in the Gängeviertel {37} in Hamburg

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or Bert Theis with the Isola Art Center in Milano initiate projects themselves to resist neoliberal urban development and to experiment with new forms of cohabitation and communal activities. In the U.S., the official involvement of artists in urban issues is channeled into “creative placemaking”. An influential new funding program, ArtPlace, was established in 2004 by the National Endowment for the Arts to revitalize communities through art projects. {38} The list of what “successful creative placemaking” means, clearly shows the aims of the program: art as an improver of social conditions, preparing ground for new investments. When I was invited in December 2013 to develop a project for the Bromo Arts District in Baltimore, Maryland, as part of the Transit program funded by ArtPlace, I was critical of these aims—but at the same time looking for opportunities to engage by reflecting these very aims back on the decision-makers and politicians. The result was the “First World Congress of the Missing Things”, which took place in June 2014. {39} A week before the public art project, another conference, the “Transatlantic Symposium. The Role of Artists & the Arts in Urban Resilience”, was held in Baltimore, MD {40} to enable an exchange of and dialog on the differing agendas of Europeans and Americans. Whereas ArtPlace is advertised as a major achievement of the Obama government in the U.S., creative placemaking was considered quite problematic from some of the European participants, since programs like ArtPlace cover up the fundamental reasons behind how the system produces inequalities in the U.S., thus exempting other parts of the political system from responsibility. Artists are utilized for resolving social problems that are rooted in a system governed by neoliberal economic interests, and as a consequence art projects are expected to contribute to raising property values. This would not be condemnable per se, if people already living on-site were involved and supported in the further process, e.g. by offering programs for them instead of misusing art to spur on gentrification. The ArtPlace website states: “Including this year’s [2014] grants, ArtPlace has invested a total of $56.8 million in 189 projects in 122 communities across 42 states and the District of Columbia since 2012.” At first glance, these figures may look striking, but when considering the area, number of inhabitants, and gross per capita income of the U.S. compared to small countries like Austria, one quickly sees that this funding is actually quite modest. In addition, one of the underlying principles of the funding is the expectation to legitimize the investment by attaining visible results of improvement. {41} This goal is highlighted in studies evaluating the impact of art in measurable, quantifiable figures, for example in Mark Stern and Susan Seifert’s report “Measuring the Outcomes of Creative Placemaking”. In his presentation at the transatlantic symposium, Mark Stern emphasized, “The most durable approach to measurement over the past generation has been the economic impact study. These studies try to estimate the total additional value created by a particular arts investment or the aggregate of all cultural assets in a city or region. Americans for the Arts, the national advocacy organization, has been the most consistent creator of these studies.” {42} This means that everybody involved (including the artist) is under pressure to legitimize the investment by delivering concrete figures displaying financial and/or social benefit. Consequently, this was one of the main topics in debates with engaged artist colleagues from Europe and art curators and administrators from city governments in the U.S. In the end, Stern’s study admitted that it had not as of yet been possible to develop clear criteria for measuring direct “improvements” effected by art. However, what the study

Barbara Holub

For a list of what “successful creative placemaking” is, see: http:// www.artplaceamerica.org/articles/ principles-of-creative-placemaking/

For more information on the “First World Congress of the Missing Things”, see the text in this publication, p.xxx, and www.missingthings.org

On May 30–31, 2014, a two-day convention of artists, curators, and public administrators from the U.S. and nine European countries took place, organized by Wilfried Eckstein (director of the Goethe Institut, Washington D.C., and former head of the Transit program). https://www.goethe.de/de/uun/prs/ med/mai4/12760640.html

The expectations of the function of art in this context are expressed directly in the “White Paper on Creative Placemaking” by Ann Markusen and Anne Gadwa, 2010: http://arts.gov/ file/1919

For publications by Mark Stern, see: http://impact.sp2.upenn.edu/ siap/; for more information on Americans for the Arts, The Arts and Economic Prosperity III (2007), see: http://www.americansforthearts.org/ EconomicImpact

considers a deficiency, I consider a hope. Art needs to escape measurable “improvement” criteria and emphasize poetic, unrecognized moments— moments lacking in our functionality-driven society, in which success is measured by economic achievement only. What aspects of art would remain, if its impact were to be quantified and functionalized to achieve direct goals? 2.3 Does Art Have a Function? The title of this publication, Planning Unplanned, refers to the process of “unlearning”—when planners as well as other experts, commissioning parties, urban planning departments, and stakeholders involved in urban planning forget their known procedures and become open to unexpected results. These new procedures should not demarcate a clearly defined chronology of sequential steps or instructions, but instead open up a field of interrelated steps contributing to an open-ended process.

“The temporary in the city.” In Temporary Urban Spaces: Concepts for the Use of City Spaces, F. Haydn and R. Temel (eds.), 55-62. Basel: Birkhäuser, 2006.

44 www.oppositionalarchitecture. com

Transdisciplinary practitioners have coined a number of terms regarding new approaches that include artistic urbanism strategies in planning and thus initiate the reconsideration of planning methods. Some of these are instant urbanism (Jeanne van Heeswijk, stealth), performative urbanism (see Kunstforum 221 and 222, “Urban Performance 1 + 2”, ed. by Heinz Schütz, 2013/2014), ambulant urbanism (Jens Emil Sennewald), temporary urbanism (Robert Temel, Florian Haydn), and direct urbanism (transparadiso). As Robert Temel points out, “temporary urbanism could be considered a method, an alternative to urban planning through the master-plan which serves as a planning tool of city planning departments only in a reduced way today”. {43} Planning Unplanned wants to take temporary urbanism to the next step, placing the potential of the urban practitioner in longer-term urban strategies based on the experiences of temporary urbanism and artistic interventions in urban space. transparadiso chose the term direct urbanism in reference to Emma Goldman’s direct action, defining it as the implementation of artistic urbanism interventions in a process-oriented, long-term urban planning practice on an equal level of importance with, and in addition to, conventional planning strategies. Direct urbanism overturns the dichotomy between critical urban intervention and urban planning, emphasizing the necessity to regain and reconsider public urban space as being space for appropriation by those who use it as a major element of socially engaged planning practices. Direct urbanism operates beyond the notions of “bottom up” and “top down”, and differentiates between art and artistic strategies. “Planning Unplanned” refers to the necessity of rethinking and undoing the practices we have been taught, of reconsidering the modes of production and categories within which they operate. The “Camp for Oppositional Architecture”, organized by An Architektur in 2004 and 2006, “brought together people who share a growing disaffection with the dominant architectural practice, which in their eyes takes insufficient consideration of the political implications of the profession and fails to critically address important issues such as globalization and the continuing dismantling of the welfare state.” {44} What has changed since then? Has anything changed? What is urban planning today? How can we meet the unforeseen movements of migration? The impacts they have on society? What do we want and what can we plan today? Do we want to fall into the trap of a few experts planning our future in the name of others? How can we reintroduce democratic processes that are governed by the interests of communal well-being rather than the economic interests of a few? How can we create an ongoing process

Planning Unplanned

of reconsidering the boundaries between professionals and informal “experts” whose knowledge is based on their living experience? What does urban planning need? Where and in what ways do we need to leave space for the unplanned, for rethinking planning and the existing distribution of roles? Opening up space for the unplanned is sometimes reproached for not having a plan instead of seeing the unplanned as a necessary space for adapting to changing conditions. Uncertainty is usually (in our media-driven society, where politics are reduced to their media performance) considered to be a danger, a weakness that needs to be hidden or disguised. How can we encourage politicians to have courage and to assume responsibility for the well-being of the general public rather than for the few, who have influence in the power system? And how to bring together the power of the manifold disparate voices that have meaningful contributions and yet remain unheard and without influence? We need to acknowledge that the question of “planning” exceeds the issue of “urban planning” by far. It is directly connected to fundamental societal questions and to creating situations that allow new visions and informal assets to surface and have an impact. This is the potential that permitting uncertainty to be a principle for change could have. Hartmut Häußermann described “the end of planning” as a result of the separation of functions and the development of the Garden City movement: Traditional mixes, overlaying of different functions, the existence side by side of conflicting uses were taken apart. […] Between these was just dead time; the time spent commuting and linking the various isolated functions. As a result of all this ordering and zoning the urban qualities died. […] The problem with these developments is not their (often negligible) architectural quality but the fact that certain people had enough power to implement what they had worked out for others, i.e. to produce a complete and final solution. These others then had to live according to this plan. […] Today planners must learn not to want to plan everything. For today we are aware that the final solutions are almost always the wrong ones or at least will, at sometime or another, become the wrong ones. {45} Not much has changed since this clear analysis from ten years ago. The prevalent and increasing desire to control—not just urban development but also the way people use space—still prevents different approaches. The quest to generate new identities could be easily achieved by letting go, by giving up control. What if the informal remnants of a construction site were left in a new urban neighborhood? They would bear the idea of something unfinished, not of a perfect marketing strategy trying to make up for a lack of identity. Identity is derived from a process that cannot and should not be steered, at least not with conventional methods. It can only develop from inhabitation, including developments that might be considered “undesirable”. These contribute to what is desired as “urbanity” or “identity”. In the summer of 2014, the Osthang Project in Darmstadt {46} reexamined a neglected site at the Mathildenhöhe, famous for its experimental art and architecture projects from the 1920s, by realizing temporary projects and discussing new approaches towards planning in international workshops and a conference. Significant for the Osthang project, again, was the discrepancy between the enormous effort and work involved in constructing this temporary settlement and the unclear impact all this effort would have on the long-term development of the prestigious and valuable area. It is a fact that, even though there are more and

Barbara Holub

Hartmut Häußermann, “How does a city district become urban?”, in kunstprojekte_riem, Springer Verlag, 2004, Landeshauptstadt München, Claudia Büttner (eds.), pp. 232–233.

46 http://www.osthang-project.org

47 http://www.montag-stiftungen. de/urbane-raeume.html

48 http://www.samtweberviertel.de/ 49

See “Handlungsprogramm Samtweberviertel”, drafted Oct. 2013, p. 11.

50 Ibid. 51

Dürfen die das? Kunst als sozialer Raum, Stella Rollig and Eva Sturm (eds.), 2001, Verlag Turia + Kant.

more projects that contribute to reconsidering planning and are characterized by transdisciplinary roles and collaborative practices (which we could consider strategies of the “urban practitioners”), their relevance in the big picture of large-scale urban planning remains wholly disproportional. When looking at the central issue of this publication now—two years after the “Planning Unplanned” conference and workshops, the big question remains: How to achieve a major shift? This publication presents only a few of the projects that employ artistic urbanism strategies in different ways. In addition, the www.urban-matters.org project data bank will be updated and expanded to enable analysis of the various tools, strategies, and contexts. But is collecting of these examples enough? One of the key issues (also a topic of the “First World Congress of the Missing Things” in Baltimore) is the redistribution of wealth. This may sound impossible and yet simple at the same time. To understand the significance and relevance of certain projects, it is helpful to look at where the financing comes from, since expectations and opportunities are often in alignment with their funding resource. When Aspern Lake City Development AG commissioned the Viennese group content.associates to conceive temporary art programs, these were funded through the marketing budget of the Aspern Development Agency. This meant that for the client the number of people attending events counted more than the content of the projects—not to mention that they did not commit to commissioning a long-term urban art strategy for this largest new urban development in Vienna for the next 20 years. But what if the marketing budget had been transferred to a long-term urban art strategy invested in exploring relevant urban issues? I dare say things would look different now. The long-term involvement of artistic (planning) strategies requires innovative financial models. A few examples exist, such as the current project of “Montag-Stiftungen {47} urbane Räume” (“Montag Foundations Urban Spaces”, directed by Frauke Burgdorff), which deals with the Samtweber viertel (the “velvet weavers quarter”) in Krefeld, Germany. {48} The goal for this “quarter in transition is to link the development of the velvet weaving quarter with investments in traditional velvet weaving in such a way that, in the midterm, a socially, economically, and urbanistically heterogeneous community can develop, one that is open to all directions and financially independent from public funding.” {49} The financial model is based on “seed capital” being invested in neighborhoods seen as being “on the edge”— meaning that they could either develop towards being down-graded into poverty or, if an upgrading were to take place, evolve towards high rents and the expulsion of existing tenants. The construction of real estate should generate enough profit to finance the collaborative projects of the quarter. The Montag Foundation Urban Spaces provides a basic annual budget of EUR 60,000-80,000 for the first 3–5 years of accompanying and moderating community work. This budget should be generated from renting the velvet weaving business and is intended to finance one person for coordination, small community activities, and project communication and public relations. {50} Now we return to the question of whether art has a function. This question is a fundamental aspect of the discussion on the societal relevance of art. One is reminded of the still highly relevant publication Dürfen die das? (“Are they allowed to do that?”) {51} addressing the question of whether art may engage in social processes, and if these projects can still be considered art or if they are then actually social services—one of the strongest criticisms of socially engaged art practices. Of course this touches upon some basic

Planning Unplanned

questions: What is art? Must art be legitimized by participating in the art market? Or are the art practices of artists who do not engage in the art market system, even refusing it outright, not equally relevant? Meanwhile, numerous artists (such as Thomas Hirschhorn and Christoph Schlingensief) have raised controversy on societal issues, showing that it is indeed possible to be critically engaged and highly successful in the international art market at the same time. These examples, and others, show that the public and the art system must finally consider the now wide range of art practices involved in and addressing urban and societal issues and that we need to reverse the critique. Why has the art market still not realized that it will remain far behind the recent developments of a major section of art production if it does not recognize these works and projects as being at least as important as the art being handled and traded in galleries now? Artists, curators, collectors, etc., i.e. the art system, need to push past the limits of the dichotomy of critically engaged art practices and art that is accepted by, and relevant for, the art market. Here, the process of “anticipated fiction” (one of transparadiso’s strategies of direct urbanism, which will be explained later in this text) can be applied: the accepting of critically engaged art practices as being the core of innovative art collecting, and thus overcoming the current state in which the prevalent function of art is reduced to that of a commodity. In this way, Planning Unplanned takes the question raised in 2001, “Are they allowed to do that?” a step further. I claim that art does have a function, that artists may engage in societal and urban issues, but for the further discussion of the possible function of art, transparadiso and our practice of direct urbanism emphasize the need to differentiate between art and artistic strategies.

3_Situations, Issues, and the Role of Art 3.1 Conditions and Parameters for Direct Urbanism and the Urban Practitioner The main prerequisite for involving art {52} in urban issues is the understanding and accepting of the fact that art is not a problem solver. However, art and artistic strategies can create a very different angle for looking at things. As mentioned above, we (transparadiso) differentiate between art and artistic strategies. What we consider “employing an artistic strategy” can be achieved, for example, by reconsidering a problem from a different perspective (reframing the problem) or by broadening the context. The significance and importance of artistic strategies invested in changing conditions is obviously not restricted to urban issues, as they can be applied to various societal contexts, especially when current acclaimed methods (like coaching, survival games, etc.) (apparently popular due to their short-term effects) are too transparent and thus do not touch on long-term intrinsic impacts. I was recently approached by a university film and media department wanting to expand the angle of their film education program from being orientated solely towards the film industry to including critical engagement by employing artistic research methods and performative elements. During the conversation, I realized that the problem was not how to develop a new program, but how to convince colleagues that this was needed and that supporting an innovative new program will garner international attention. This situation can serve as a good example of employing artistic strategies beyond the urban context, and of how the method of shifting or reframing the context can work. Let us now return to the urban context—which is the foremost terrain of

Barbara Holub

In the following statements, art refers to the practice of the urban practitioner.

See p. 238 ff., this publication.

the urban practitioner. When transparadiso came to Judenburg {53} with Paradise Enterprise (2012–2014), we pointed out from the beginning that a single project, even one as engaged and long-term as Paradise Enterprise is planned to be, cannot resolve large-scale issues like shrinking. Paradise Enterprise was not going to directly inspire new companies to settle in Judenburg, provide new jobs, create new revenue, or attract more people to move to Judenburg. However, it would be able to create settings for local people to take matters into their own hands, to become active again, and to emphasize the necessity of engaging in social values. In Judenburg, for us this meant involving as many different parts of society as possible and interconnecting them. Significant amounts of time were needed to research how to address certain people and their interests—time that is usually not provided, yet requires a true interest in individuals and their situations. Beyond applying generalized procedural patterns, strategies, and “tools”, what we need above all is time. This one element—time—is one of the most volatile elements in our current Western society. The diverse perception of time exemplifies the ambiguity of a linear input–output relationship, which often counteracts expectations based on measurable results. At conferences, the most important times are the breaks, where people chat and hang out informally. One could even see the talks and discussions as merely providing a framework for the informal situation of the breaks. So, again, when considering conditions for direct urbanism, the (mostly unnoticed) time that is required to establish communication with various and diverse groups of people and agents is a completely underrecognized prerequisite and, due to the indistinctness of its investment, often underpaid or even not paid at all. Certain rhythms and loops of involvement need to be carefully designed in order to understand when interruptions or halts are needed in a process—and how art is linked to artistic strategies and at which point one or the other are more conducive. In Judenburg, the artistic strategy was to recreate the notion of a contemporary paradise garden at the site of a former “paradise” (Austrian word for tomato) garden and use the actual site and its former function to address notions of “paradise” on a social level. After outlining an overall plan for the long-term development of the area (as contributing to the development of the whole town), we invited art projects with which we wanted to work once the wishes of local residents and youths were clearly expressed. Using funding from Public Art Styria, artists Christine and Irene Hohenbüchler successfully realized the hybrid BMX pump track wished for by local riders. The young BMXers from socially “disadvantaged” backgrounds have now assumed responsibility for the site. During the project, the artists lived next door, in the notorious Paradise Street social housing complex, and were thus inside the community. Occasionally, the artists would invite the young people to join them for barbecues on the site. You could smell the sausages cooking on the improvised fire pit from afar, homemade salads sat in the dark on wooden boxes overturned to make tables, and the young riders would show up with McDonald’s bags. But they always sat down and enjoyed our strange company. Paradise Street will grow. The plan we are developing for the area includes new housing intended to create a social mix and expand the urban public space of the paradise garden into a new urban area connecting—socially as well as geographically—the historic city center to the steel company and working class neighborhood on the other side of the Mur River. Thus the neglected area of the former paradise garden will become a new urban center for Judenburg, enhancing the existing quality of the beautiful, dense, and wild landscape along the Mur.

Planning Unplanned

In the first part of this text, I outlined situations in which new approaches towards urban and regional planning are needed. I stated how it is essential to investigate the context and parameters for involving direct urbanism methods, and that conditions are not comparable on a 1:1 basis, but that certain parameters can serve as reference for similar situations or issues. But what are the conditions necessary to produce direct urbanism projects and to engage “new urban practitioners”? How can artists and artistic strategies be positioned and recognized as active contributors to cultural policies and urban development? The following list (far from complete) is a summary of what I already discussed before, derived from the transparadiso experience. Any semblance to a manifesto is not unintentional. → Prerequisites

→ Goals

—Direct urbanism needs open-minded partners committed to engaging in an open-ended process. —Participation is not a blanket solution: Areas of expertise must be differentiated in order to create a basis for being clear about who should be involved at which point of the process, for what reason, and in which way. —Conflict should be seen as a productive force. —Funding must not be tied to “measurable results”. {54}

→ Artists must maintain their critical voice.

We need to differentiate between the various agents and cultural producers and appreciate their diverse roles within cultural policy rather than addressing cultural producers as a “general group” (or in the worst case reducing them to “creative capital”). —Artists must maintain their critical voice. —Artists must be seen as having expertise on par with other experts (such as urban planners, landscape architects, sociologists, civil engineers, and lawyers). —Artistic urban practices must be acknowledged for their establishment of new societal values enhancing community-oriented action and counteracting urban development, which is increasingly based on neoliberal decision-making. —New qualities like poetic moments must be acknowledged as intrinsic elements of societal and urban cohabitation and planning. —The experience participants make and the impact on their personal life, of feeling “empowered” (on which personal or communal level ever) must be considered a vital aspect.

According to the specific societal, cultural, geographical and political context, it should be investigated whether new structures for establishing the concerns of new urban practitioners need to be created independently, or if they should be part of the framework of existing structures, and which cultural producers should be involved in decisionmaking on what level. In spite of the discrepancy between the often self-exploitative and underpaid engagement of urban practitioners so far, and the dominant neoliberal structures, movements in other arenas of society (such as “no growth”) are underway. These movements fight for a perspective of change, which encourages the potential for change in the realm of urban planning and urban issues—where the redistribution of wealth and of resources can first be seen.

Barbara Holub

Public art funds, e.g. in Austria and Germany, maintain programs that employ artists whose critical voices and independent artistic practices are respected when involved in urban issues. It is important to note that artists must not be expected to adapt their projects to prescribed tasks and envisioned outcomes.

→ What can art not do in the context of urban development? —Art cannot resolve larger societal problems stemming from systems that produce social and economic inequality. —Art cannot be an interim solution for neglected neighborhoods. If art and artistic strategies are involved in urban issues, they need to be integrated in a long-term perspective of urban development that introduces new societal values and involves broader aspects of society. —Art must not be expected to fulfill the expectations of commissioning parties in a direct way. —Art must not take on the responsibilities of other domains (thus exempting these domains from their responsibility).

→ Art asks questions not asked by others.

→ The independence of art projects and artistic strategies can be maintained when: —art is reluctant to fulfill expectations. —art resists. —art asks questions not asked by others. —art can use its position on the fringes of society as “péruque” (see Michel de Certeau). —art projects in urban public space provide a different view of existing situations. —art projects in urban public space unveil hidden potentials. —art creates poetic moments.

→ What can art (not) do in the context of urban development?

→ What can art do in the context of urban development? Now let’s get back to the question of the function of art: As I already stated, art has an additional function that goes beyond feeding the art market. At the same time, I want to make a plea for critical art to be collected (even better, if out of personal interest and conviction rather than just for raising the credibility of a company). Critical artists claim that art has the function of not functioning within the parameters currently governing our neoliberally dominated society. Art must maintain its independence in order to function as a (non-commercial) surplus in society—a surplus free from judgement by economic criteria and outcomes. Otherwise, art loses the unique and critical role it plays in society. If art were to subordinate its role to only functioning for the purposes of the governing interests, it would not be art anymore. This may be considered a utopian perspective, since art, of course, is also part of the system. And we know how fast art can be appropriated by marketing campaigns. Therefore, the question is: How can art assume a strong function in urban and societal development without being appropriated for the purposes of creating capital for the people and companies already in positions of power?

3.2 Legitimacy / Evaluation / Impact The core issue of current artistic urbanism practices is the question of how to evaluate its impact and thus legitimize funding. This means that a differentiation is made between the internal value of an art project (for participants, attendants, and authors) and value that can be marketed on a political level.

Planning Unplanned

The internal value is very difficult to measure. This seems to result in even more emphasis being put on art and artistic practices raising the market value of a certain property. The expectation of definable results in the U.S. context has already been mentioned. However, U.S. “standards” of analysis, such as best-practice examples, are increasingly setting the tone in Europe as well, especially when discussing large-scale urban and regional development projects involving art. New buzzwords like creative placemaking and urban resilience are continually thrown around, joined by hollowed-out terms such as sustainability. The quest for “best practice” remains. But what is best practice, and what are the conditions for it? Is it really so easy and does it even make sense to single out one project that stands for many others? How can we withstand simple categorization? Can we find ways to describe the parameters of the context in new narratives, narratives that could expand visions rather than limit them? Planning authorities and city governments need to accept the fact that the engagement addressed in this publication, one in which manifold projects have a voice, is based on the unique dedication of the people involved. At the same time that I am arguing for “learning from other contexts”, I want to emphasize that this must not be confounded with best practice. Best practice precludes the abyss of generalization, of creating a model intended to serve for others. No single situation can serve as a model in general terms, {55} as it would run the danger of reverting to conventional urban planning. On the contrary, each situation requires an in-depth analysis of (possibly hidden) existing potential. This potential can be used to form a concept that employs new methods and strategies, some of which I will present below. The quest for best practice also infers a clear definition of success and failure. But who defines “success” and “failure”? In whose interests? Under which circumstances can failure become a productive force? The current zero-growth economic situation (whereas the internationally dominant economy still adheres to market dictates of growth as being the only driving factor behind creating economic strength) could be seen as marking the end of common parameters for defining “success” and “failure”— categories that have been reduced to the economic aspect. This offers a chance to redefine the “function” of art and also the question of function in urban design and urban planning on a broader scale. The degrowth concept and debate is an important source of empowerment for artists and urban practitioners, and vice versa. Failure (in terms of economic growth) could thus become a productive force for new values and the ways that they are discussed by degrowth movements. → Evaluation—For Whom and In Whose Interest? In her Manifesto of Possibilities (2007), Sophie Hope states: “Evaluation should be integral to the process, embedded from the beginning, providing productive suggestions as a qualitative tool and NOT a preemptive checklist.” {56} Here, it is important to point out the differing contexts of the UK and, for example, Austria. Whereas the UK is more similar to the U.S. in terms of using evaluation to compare funding and investment results, Austria is quite reluctant to carry out this type of evaluation. From a U.S. or UK perspective, this could be considered failure. However, I think that this refusal to reduce art and artistic practices in order to analyze their function for a certain purpose contributes to maintaining the potentially independent role of art. Austria has a broad range and growing number of public art programs in cities as well as in the provinces, {57} but a comprehensive evaluation of these

Barbara Holub

This is why it is important to consider that the range of projects presented in this publication must not be considered as examples of best practice. Instead, they aim to trigger associations with delving into current urban issues and the diverse ways artists and urban practitioners respond to, or challenge, the specific context.

Sophie Hope, Manifesto of Possibilities, http://sophiehope.org.uk/ projects/

Public Art Lower Austria has maintained its crucial agenda to confront small towns in the region of Lower Austria with contemporary art of the highest level (www.publicart.at), a very innovative approach that director Katharina Blaas has been able to pursue for over 20 years now. Public Art Styria has developed a profile with a special emphasis on involving art addressing community development and regional concerns (www.publicart.at). The Festival of Regions in Upper Austria is a biennial regional festival dedicated to developing art and art projects in close collaboration with the population (www.fdr.at). In addition to the existing public art programs in cities and regions, a new regional festival was founded in 2008, the Styrian regionale, which ended in 2012.

projects has not yet been undertaken at this point in time. The study Kunst macht Stadt!? by Kubesch/Rode/Wanschura {58} examined the impact of Vienna’s Soho in Ottakring art festival (founded in 1999 by artist Ula Schneider) on the Soho district’s identity and could be considered a first step in that direction. However, this study—and all other studies—must be critically examined in terms of whom it is meant to serve. In this case, the goal was to investigate how the Soho in Ottakring {59} experience could serve as an example for implementing art to revalue certain areas of the city. In the context of Vienna, this does not necessarily mean gentrification (at least not on the same scale that other cities have experienced it), since the structures are too complex. {60} Therefore, one must be even more aware of the danger of transferring initiatives like Soho in Ottakring to other urban contexts, as it could easily result in gentrification. If evaluation were to be used to legitimize investments in art, the artistic concerns and quality of taking a stand—against dominant interests or otherwise—would be endangered. Since we are so used to adhering to the fulfillment of the quest to judge by quantity (of visitors) rather than discussing the quality of the experiences of individuals—something that cannot be measured by mainstreamed questionnaires—we need to shift the criteria of evaluation. How could one measure the value of a peaceful and inspiring community living together? Can these qualities be reduced to a figure? Or is it not rather the multitude of individuals who contribute to a vital and diverse community, with their often unwanted various social or cultural backgrounds? Counteracting linear “input–output” evaluations is usually based on a need to claim other values, where artistic knowledge and research would be fruitful and highly important: to develop new ways of appreciating the quality of personal experience and the communication processes that are enabled by artists.

4_Tools, Tactics, and Strategies

Kubesch, Christian/Rode, Philipp/Wanschura, Bettina: Kunst macht Stadt?! Study for the City of Vienna, 2008.

The name was criticized from the very beginning for being a direct reference to the gentrification process in Soho, New York.

The last remnants of the legacy of the “Red Vienna” era (1920s) left in the social-democratic consciousness are somehow still present in public awareness. However, this remaining public awareness is in danger of being completely extinguished, since current (urban planning) policies are increas ingly based on neoliberal agendas, even in Vienna.

For more examples see the projects in this publication and on www.urban-matters.org

Many artistic urbanism groups, including stealth (Belgrade), MUF (London), atelier d’architecture autogérée (Paris), transparadiso (Vienna), Teddy Cruz (San Diego), Stalker (Rome), and Ala Plastica (Buenos Aires) {61} have developed specific tools and/or urban strategies for engaging, on various levels, in long-term, socially oriented urban development processes that can react to rapidly changing parameters and incorporate the expertise of artists and urbanists on an equal level. Many artists, sociologists, activists, theorists, urban researchers, and people from other fields have been operating in transdisciplinary roles in manifold collaborations pursuing similar goals. In spite of the significance, their tools and strategies have not yet been analyzed in depth or extracted as methodologies. This is one of the reasons why we have compiled the urban-matters.org database, which will be expanded by an analysis of each specific project’s context, problems, and methods in the next step. I would now like to introduce the tools and strategies of direct urbanism (mainly exemplified by two of our projects, “Paradise Enterprise” and “The First World Congress of the Missing Things”) together with the new role of “urban practitioners”, who attempt to shift dominant decision-making and conventional methods of planning towards an open-ended process that respects and makes use of the specific social, societal, political, and

Planning Unplanned

economic conditions of a situation. The goal of the urban practitioner is to create a situation that enables local residents, politicians, and decision-makers to continue with a process once started, providing assistance only when needed. Through its fluidity, this role can assume a position suited to a specific moment in time and to the needs of the people involved. The role may switch from that of an “educator” (although not labeled as such) to a citizen, to a professional—according to the field or specific situation required. It is important to note that the critical voice of the urban practitioner never waives, always defending the independence of artistic strategies and of art that questions societal conditions. The outstanding potential of the urban practitioner is to be both the “other” and the “self”, to act from inside—yet pretend to operate from outside the system (as needed according to the circumstances), to switch roles, to be discrete and overt, to be unpredictable. This strategy of disguise was exemplified by Michel de Certeau as “le péruque” (the wig) {62} when addressing traditional working conditions in a factory. Paul Rajakovics writes about how we can also make use of other terms, tactics, and strategies introduced by de Certeau, explaining how we can adapt and employ them for current urban issues. {63} The recurrent use of military terminology by participants when describing current urban practices in the above-mentioned conference on “The Role of Artists & the Arts in Urban Resilience” (Baltimore, 2014) became a topic in itself during one discussion. {64} It was also pointed out that no one had mentioned the word avant-garde as being a forerunner among military terms crucial to the art context. Could this “missing word” indicate the necessity to have the courage to reclaim the new function of art as being avant-garde? This is in the sense of using the underrecognized position of being on the fringes of society to ask crucial questions concerning society—and to believe in their potential to actually have an effect. Is this a current potential role of the non-outspoken revolutionary who comes to terms with the fact that we are all part of the system—and that we thus need to challenge it from the inside (as de Certeau suggested with his strategy of the péruque), counteracting it with the means we have at hand? Could artistic strategies of this kind become a different kind of activism? 4.1 Artistic Urbanism Strategies What follows are examples of artistic urbanism strategies (based on our, i.e. transparadiso’s work) that can contribute to a new methodology of an open-ended process for urban development. Many of them are inter connected and can be employed and interpreted in ever-new permutations.

→ Unlearning Unlearning means forgetting imaginary and actual barriers; leaving bias behind and evolving beyond the experiences and the roles we have assumed, since they often result in self-censorship and prevent openness towards new methods and processes from surfacing. Unlearning claims an “artistic state of exemption”, thus enabling us to free ourselves from any assumed expectations we are accustomed to acting in accordance with. {65}

Barbara Holub

62 See Michel de Certeau, The Practice of Everyday Life, 1984; L‘invention du quotidien. Vol. 1, Arts de faire, 1980. 63 See Das künstlerische Handeln in einer neuen Praxis – „Urban Practitioners“ by Paul Rajakovics, p. 134 ff.

“Transatlantic Symposium. The Role of Artists & the Arts in Urban Resil ience”, organized by Wilfried Eckstein, Goethe Institut, Washington D.C., May 31–June 1, 2014, MICA, Baltimore.

The first time we employed unlearning as a strategy was in Valparaíso (Chile, 2001) for the “deseo urbano” project, in which we developed an urban game for involving residents, city administrators, and government officials. We invited them to produce their wishes for the urban realm be yond conventional categories of urban planning. In this way, unlearning is also closely related to the production of desires. Through this, we freed not only ourselves from presumptions, but also freed everyone involved. The expertise was attributed equally to all the participants involved—no matter what background, an aspect we consider intrinsic to unlearning.

→ Shifting roles

→ Anticipatory fiction

Shifting roles is closely connected to unlearning. It is a strategy that can be used in two types of situations: from the outside, in order to set the preliminary tenor of a project, and during the course of a project: 1—Shifting roles is a method of creating new narratives, possibly even new roles, such as “actors”. {66} This strategy can also refer to the technique of the “péruque” (see de Certeau). In certain contexts, it is more viable for an artist to act from the position of an urban planner, a developer, a social agent, or an activist—fulfilling whatever the person vis-à-vis might consider to be a “professional”.

Anticipatory fiction takes the envisioned final outcome of a process and assumes it has already become reality. This conviction helps overcome barriers and can achieve much more in the long run than dealing with any “expected” difficulties. Anticipatory fiction goes beyond the production of desires {67} or the creation of visions. It works by developing narratives that transgress the seemingly doable, involving poetic moments as well as introducing new values other than that of the prevalent neoliberal governance.

In Judenburg, we simply stated that the “paradise” was already there (in the outstanding quality of the 2—Roles are switched according to the requirelandscape space along the river Mur), and that it just ments of the process—regardless of the role in needed to be rediscovered and reinterpreted. which a person has been trained: from the “artist”, However, the method of anticipatory fiction can also who is usually not taken very seriously (often even be employed to move in a completely different seen as a “crazy person”), the “negotiator” (a direction. For example, when we were invited to professional), the “architect/planning expert” develop a concept for the inauguration of Zeche (who understands the interests of developers), Zollverein Essen (Germany) as a design space, {68} and many more. we proposed Plan B. Plan B was a project anticipating dependence on Russian energy supplies, the incalculable costs for consumers that go with this, and the growing problematic of Central Europeans (especially retired people) not being able to afford heating anymore. Plan B proposed to make use of a recently closed surface coal field in Köflach, Austria, by opening it up for “coal picking”. This was a reference to the self-picking strawberry fields that are enjoying growing success in Austria, since this voluntary “manual labor” offers immediate pleasure as a pastime. {69} The Plan B project proposal was dismissed by the curator as being “cynical”—but the following year the Upper Austrian Regional Exhibition offered “coal picking” as an exhibition event, without addressing any further complex set of problems that go with it. Our critical anticipated fiction had thus been overruled by mere entertainment at a different venue. 66

See, e.g., the project 7x7 by osservatorio urbano/Lungomare.

See “Park Fiction” (Hamburg, Germany) by Christoph Schäfer and Cathy Skeene, which has become the “mother of production of desires”.

For the exhibition “Talking Cities” (2006), curated by Francesca Ferguson.

At the same time the strawberry fields are a signifier of manual labor being regarded as an unaffordable good due to high labor costs in central Europe and therefore outsourced to big strawberry plantations such as those in Spain, which are harvested by immigrant or migrant workers.

Planning Unplanned

→ Shifting the context Similar problems often arise in different cultural, societal, and political contexts. We can learn from these contexts and look at the means, methods, and tools they produced, to expand our vision and produce ideas beyond what our imagination usually perceives as doable (a limitation that often can lead to self-censorship). Voices from the

→ Expanding the context outside are important. It is crucial to not assume that all solutions are at hand, but instead to refer to other situations with similar problems and challenges to find modes of coping that may seem impossible to apply to a different situation. Shifting the context allows the commissioning party to draw their own conclusions rather than pretending to have a solution at hand. The artistic strategy of drawing on the concept of a congress as an established format for generating knowledge by people on-site, accepting them as the experts, was initially developed for the “First World Congress of the Missing Things” (Baltimore, June 2014), and was then reinvestigated as an artistic method and adapted for the “Second World Non-Congress”, which took place at Aspern Lake City in Vienna in November 2014. The method of shifting the context from a shrinking city to a growing city obviously meant that conditions could not be compared. The chosen setting, artistic means, and procedures employed in Vienna were completely different, yet the two congresses had in common that they generated unexpected, yet specific, future perspectives.

→ Dialog and polylog Bringing people with contradictory interests together as active participants and offering situations for them to communicate requires the construction of non-hierarchical discussion situations. These new situations and encounters on an eye-to-eye level can facilitate the leaving behind of familiar territories. It still needs to be carefully investigated in which situations activist strategies are more powerful for change—or when it is conducive to provide situations for engaging people in a communication process on an equal level. Too often, the greatest obstacles to change are language and social barriers between the various backgrounds, fields, and experiences. Artistic procedures can offer a language and setting to communicate across diverse interests, and thus overcome confrontational oppositons and presumptions of non-understanding.

Barbara Holub

Oftentimes the problem stated by the commissioning party needs to be reconsidered from a broader perspective in order to arrive at the core of the problem. In the “Commons Come to Liezen” project, transparadiso expanded the context from the matter of empty ground floor areas to questioning the spatial politics of the municipality, which had purchased property from farmers in order to build a huge outlying shopping area, thus draining consumption from the city center. Therefore, transparadiso reintroduced the aspect of the “commons” (based on the town park, an orchard still functioning as commons, even though this aspect had been forgotten in the public awareness) and discussed the complexity of how new economic practices and communities acting together could contribute to a new understanding and an assumption of responsibility for the well-being of the town that goes beyond personal economic interests.

→ Research through practice It is not possible to develop new tools, strategies, and techniques through theory alone, they need to be used and tested in direct situations. The challenge is that there is no predefined ground or outcome. The direct experience and the parallel analysis reflect back on developing the next steps for the concrete situation while continuing to develop and shape the dialog between theory and research. This ping-pong process requires openness from all people involved, including the divesting of conventional concepts of what research is. Research through practice can be considered a method of artistic research. Unlike conventional scientific research methods, {70} the goal of employing research through practice is not to achieve a quantifiable measurement of results. This artistic method (like the others mentioned above) instead opens up space for unexpected knowledge through direct experience. 70

For example, sociological research methods often drawn upon for urban research.

→ Conflict as a productive force

We need to reconsider conflict and start developing a “culture of conflict” as a possible productive force for changing single-minded attitudes instead of aiming to eliminate conflict altogether. This applies especially to our Central European culture, where openly addressing conflicts is something that is avoided. Conflicts are pushed to the outer edges and made invisible so as to not obstruct the comforting feeling of well-being, which politicians, in particular, try to convey. {71} This “forced” consensus means eliminating differences on the surface, even though differences are what constitutes lively urban environments. Opposing interests need to be publicly discussed rather than arranged behind closed doors. Artistic practices can create settings and narratives for playing out moments of conflict and even compelling them by using the art project as a rehearsal area for conflicts to be acted out.

Recently, the right-wing Freedom Party of Austria (FPÖ) requested to ban begging in the inner city tourist areas in Salzburg and Graz instead of address ing the underlying issues of begging.

See Paul Rajakovics and Barbara Holub, “Vacancies and Urban Reserves”, in Temporary Urban Spaces: Concepts for the Use of City Spaces, Robert Temel and Florian Haydn (eds.), p.113–119, Birkhäuser, 2006.

The concept of the Empty Field Consortium was derived from the fact that the Aspern Lake City has not achieved its goals of attracting institutions such as the Vienna University of Technology or the Vienna University of Economics to Aspern, institutions which would have been major carriers of identity and stimulated a mixed use.

see p. 238 ff.

→ Open space or “The Urban Reserve” {72} Exempting certain areas from urban development in order to maintain a space as an urban reserve for unplanning is a major strategy in complementing the quest for a realized final state solely based on a previous plan. Urban reserves supply the potential to adjust to processes and unforeseen changing parameters. For Beyond, a long-term urban arts program for the new Leidsche Rijn development in Utrecht, the Netherlands, curator Tom van Gestel embedded a scenario called “blind spots” to highlight this potential. At Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside, I proposed the Consortium Freies Feld (Empty Field Consortium) project. The proposition was to not just leave a certain area empty (regardless of size), {73} but to reinterpret it and develop an international forum to discuss the deficiencies of urban development and “missing things” in a broader context and the conditions that cause their absence.

4.2 Creating Situations _ Taking Action All these artistic tools and methods contribute to the main goal: creating situations for appropriating urban public space as part of durational urban concepts by highlighting social values and translating these into cultivated aesthetics. They proclaim the equal importance of “soft skills” (such as engaging with very different individuals and social groups of the population and their controversial needs and agendas) and “soft facts” beyond the aspects and categories usually analyzed in urbanism. These “soft facts” can be hidden agendas or potentials that need to be unveiled, as in “Paradise Enterprise”. {74} transparadiso conducted the research on-site, inviting young local residents to show their favorite places along the river Mur as the first step in rediscovering hidden potential. This research gave the expertise back to the local people—as in the next steps—and established the basis not just for developing the overall project but also for establishing communication on an equal level. The soft fact of revealed hidden potential thus also resulted in the soft skill of building confidence. Creating situations in which everyday users and residents are encouraged to take action, to take matters into their own hands, counteracts participation being used as a generic and often pseudo-democratic instrument. In these pseudo-participatory planning processes, representatives of certain groups are singled out and involved in conventional urban planning processes in order to legitimize them. No further research is done on what the

Planning Unplanned

actual needs and shortcomings are, since “voices have been heard”. Creating situations for appropriation means leaving the dichotomy of planners and consumers behind to construct settings where a different type of research, like research through practice, is needed. Here, again, artistic strategies can play a fundamental role, e.g. understanding who should be involved at which point in a (planning) process. Situations where unheard voices and unwanted wants can surface should be taken as a basis for further progress. “The First World Congress of the Missing Things” {75} in Baltimore (June 2014) can be considered a paradigmatic example of creating such a situation. How can one return the public voice to the people using this rundown area next to the inner city of this shrinking town, which has recently been laden with expectations for raising its property value? How to engage these people, who are mainly homeless and drug addicts, and gain their confidence in the meaningfulness of getting involved in an art project? How to explain to city authorities that this, or any art project, cannot and must not resolve the vast social problems stemming from the political and economic system? This is why I decided to use the word congress, referring to the unquestioned credibility of a congress to produce content and build contacts. However, I shifted the congress format away from the typical closed situation, creating an open access conference in urban public space. While a congress is usually defined by its exclusiveness, the “First World Congress of the Missing Things” was based on providing a spatial setting for local people to articulate and discuss their missing things. Exactly what these missing things were was up to their own interpretation, of course, and ranged from “providing jobs for ex-convicts” to “a swimmable inner harbor”, addressing an entire range of social, urban, and societal issues. At the closing ceremony, the “Charter of the Missing Things” created by the congress was handed over to the mayor. This experience was new not only for the participants from disadvantaged backgrounds, but also for the politicians and public authorities who spent time at the congress together with those very people whom they otherwise only considered as “problems”. One of them said, seemingly touched: “Now, for the first time after having served in my function for 15 years, I feel that I am in touch again with the people and the reason why I decided to get involved in politics.” Of course, one small, temporary event like this will not change political attitudes as a whole, but it can indeed provide insight on what is needed. The aesthetic of the congress situation not only brought back an appreciation of this underrecognized site and the people living there, but it also created deep— and I almost want to say poetic—moments on a human level. For two days (or a total of three weeks together with on-site preparations), the congress successfully interrupted the tragic helplessness and hopelessness. As one black woman said to a white academic from Baltimore: “I was born a slave, you were born a master. How can we communicate?” And they went on to have a long conversation, as did many others. 4.3 An Open Tool and Strategy Catalog: For the Unplanned The narratives produced by and in situations like that of the “First World Congress of the Missing Things” exceed expectations. They cannot be planned. They cannot be evaluated. They are not “functional” in a measurable way. When discussing urban tools and strategies with decision-makers, there is a recurrent interest in how to make them into something functional like a “tool catalog”. Basically, there is nothing wrong with a tool catalog in the sense of learning from experience, as long as the people who want to implement specific elements are aware of the need to adapt the tools and

Barbara Holub

For a detailed description of the project, see p. 156 ff. in this publication.

strategies to each specific context. It would be a big misunderstanding to see them as recipes. As a result of “Paradise Enterprise” (and based on previous experience), transparadiso will tackle the challenge of bridging the gap between refusing to fulfill these expectations and yet providing a framework for engaging in direct urbanism, highlighting the need to leaving open space for the unplanned and enhancing open processes by publishing an open “tool and strategy catalog”. Let us now return to one of the main issues—and maybe the most complex one—where this catalog for the unplanned can be applied: the quest for “urbanity”. If the magical term urban has been overused as a general descriptor for “the creation of vitality” in new urban developments (as if urban was a guarantee, an overall solution—but for what?), then I would like to return to the basis laid out by Henri Lefebvre: “As a place of encounters, focus of communication and information, the urban becomes what it always was: place of desire, permanent disequilibrum, seat of the dissolution of normalities and constraints, the moment of play and of the unpredictable.” {76} To produce this becoming of urban anew today, I would like to expand Lefebvre’s lucid definition by “allowing for contradictions”. This allowing of contradictions is exactly what artists and urban practitioners can bring about: they act without fear, without fulfilling expectations of quantifiable results. (If art served these interests, artists would not only betray the people involved, but it would be the end of art.) Art needs to maintain its position of coming “from the outside”, yet the artist and urban practitioner know that no territory—neither physical nor metaphorical—can be gained by mere opposition alone. Thoughtful urban practitioners need to be capable of shifting roles, of engaging from different perspectives, and of communicating with everybody involved. They act from behind the scenes as much as they do overtly, escaping expectations and definitions, maintaining a fluid role. Their serious or playful energy can make the impossible happen, even achieving social equality. And if this sounds like a claim, it is intentional—it is a claim that is not modest, on the contrary: it should be expanded beyond the art context, fueled by the narratives and visions produced by the people. This is how art and urban practitioners can create new realities.

MISSING THINGS AS A POTENTIAL FOR THE UNPLANNED_ LEARNING FROM “BEYOND LEIDSCHE RIJN”, “KUNSTPROJEKTE_RIEM”, AND ASPERN VIENNA’S URBAN LAKESIDE [ Barbara Holub ] What kind of conditions are needed for artistic strategies to be considered an intrinsic element of urban development processes? How can we bring across that they provide qualities conventional urban planning is unable to achieve? What are these qualities? What is their importance, who is it that attributes it to them, and what are their motives? And: What is the function of art in this context?

Henri Lefebvre, Writings on Cities (translated and edited by Eleonore Kofman and Elizabeth Lebas), Blackwell Publishing, 2006, p. 129.

01 See Barbara Holub’s project “On Urban Periphery”, 2010, www.koer.or.at, www.kunstradio.at

Planning Unplanned—Barbara Holub

As part of Planning Unplanned we followed the development of Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside in Vienna during a phase when the process was being shaped and the various elements (communication strategy, the formation of an advisory board, etc.) were in development, but before the actual construction process started. The choice of Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside as a test site was based on a previous project of mine, “Am Stadtrand / On Urban Periphery”, in which I had explored the still existing qualities shaping identity by informal appropriation, before they were eradicated by the construction site. {01} This was a period in time when it had (finally) become possible to involve artistic practices as overall long-term “art plans” based on the experience of two seminal and long-term projects that commissioned art in large-scale new urban development areas “kunstprojekte_riem” for Messe stadt Munich (GER, 2001–2004) and “Beyond Leidsche Rijn” for Utrecht (NL, 1999–2009). Surprisingly, Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside had not devised a preliminary study (unlike the projects in Munich and Utrecht) for conceiving an “art plan”, even though involving art in the groundwork for new urban developments had been a strategy in many recent projects of the kind. These two reference projects were highly innovative on different levels: “kunstprojekte_riem”, a new urban development in Munich, included the re-development of a former airport comparable in size to Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside, and “Beyond Leidsche Rijn” (much larger in scale) is one of a few and a very engaged example of a durational urban art plan, which was carried out over a period of ten years. I will not be able to analyze the contextual or political parameters of these urban developments, nor the applied public art strategies and their impact in this text, but I will look at the program strands and their function in order to explore possibilities for taking the role of art in an urban context one step further: from a parallel program designed to accompany an urban development (and to fill in the gaps) to something that extracts new parameters for employing the transdisciplinary role of art and the new urban practitioner within the planning process as an emancipated position. Inspired by the projects mentioned above, we had all reason to hope we could establish artistic processes as an integral part of this Vienna project as well. I have to state outright that our ambition failed. In spite of the “official”

Missing Things as a Potential for the Unplanned—Barbara Holub

agreement between the Institute of Art and Design (Vienna University of Technology) and 3420 Aspern Development AG, it turned out that we were not considered “partners” in the sense that our knowledge would find entrance into the subsequent planning process. Thus, Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside remained a potential test site based on speculation of what might have been possible. Yet it remains important to look at the aspects of why our intentions failed and to draw on the artistic program strands of the two reference projects—including what turned out to be considered a “failure” by the Munich City Council in the case of the ambitious “kunstprojekte_riem” (which then led to their premature termination). I will therefore speculate on the potential of “failure” and “missing things” as productive forces towards the end of my article.

1_Test Site: Aspern Vienna’s urban lakeside

STEP = Stadtentwicklungsplan (urban development plan of the City of Vienna).

03 Centrope is a cooperation of 16 regions and cities including Vienna, Prague, Budapest, and Bratislava with around 6.5 million inhabitants; http://www.centrope.com/en

Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside is not only the largest new urban development in Vienna, but also one of the largest in Europe to be completed within the next fifteen or twenty years, as it is intended to provide housing for about 20,000 and jobs for another 20,000 people. Since the fall of the Iron Curtain in 1989, Vienna has continuously grown after having shrunken from its peak population of 2.1 million inhabitants in 1910 to 1.5 million in the 1980s. Responding to the ongoing population growth (especially due to migration from former Eastern European countries), the 2005 STEP {02} designated 15 urban renewal areas with the main aim of condensing the last remaining urban areas (where this is still possible, such as around the new main train station, the area of the former Südbahnhof) and creating density in less denser areas on the fringes of the city (like in the 22nd district). Apart from the Belvedere quarter and the Sonnwendviertel with the new main train station, the focus was on the re-development of the former airport and airfield at Aspern, which had been shut down on May 1, 1977. What elements are needed to create “urbanity” today in a “new city”? And not just any new city, but “a new city between Vienna and Bratislava” (Slovakia), which adds yet another dimension: that of re-discovering the Centrope region {03}. Of course, even though the airfield had been abandoned for almost forty years, the area was everything but devoid of identity. It was used as a car race track and loaded with many different connotations. There was plenty of informal use by strong and very diverse neighbors, from the General Motors plant (opened in 1982, providing 2,000 jobs) in the south to single family housing and still existing village structures in the immediate surroundings. And not to forget the significance with which the name Aspern resonates in Austrian history, recalling the famous battle of Aspern (1809), in which Napoleon was beaten for the first time (by Austrians!)—a short-lived victory though, since Napoleon struck back in the battle of Deutsch-Wagram just a few months later. This historical period of heroes and battles is recalled by street and square names (the “hero-square” at the center of the former independent village being just one of many examples) and thus still quite present in Aspern today. With the airfield being historically loaded, each construction site field at Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside requires preliminary archeological exams and digging. In spite of these many historical or more recent factors creating manifold identities, the two-stage architectural competition (2006) was decided in favor of a master plan by Tovatt Architects that is based on a replica of the “Ring”, the circle road surrounding the first district of Vienna.

Missing Things as a Potential for the Unplanned

However, rather than embedding or suggesting possible significant new contemporary urban public functions (which define Vienna’s first district along the Ring {04}), this new Ring is circling around an arbitrary lake. {05} The borders to the adjacent neighborhoods were ignored—along with all the informal and unplanned appropriations of that multilayered space of the abandoned airfield that have evolved throughout the years and created quite a lively and rare urban void. The complex history of the site could have been a significant reference for connecting to an existing identity that was built throughout the centuries. Yet since the developers of Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside wanted to emphasize the ecological component of reduced car traffic and public transport, it did not seem feasible to relate to the history of the airport, or the car races. The decision to execute this master plan has been analyzed and critically discussed extensively {06}, so I will not go into detail here. Since the goal of the City of Vienna was to position Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside as a “new city”, it was envisioned that major institutions like the Vienna University of Technology or the Vienna University of Economics and Business would provide this new area with a backbone, so that a mix of uses and enhancing public activities could be created, furthering an urban public life beyond the mere function of housing. This did not happen. The University of Technology preferred to stay in its downtown location, and the University of Economics decided to build a new campus in the second district of Vienna next to the Vienna Fair and the Prater amusement area. As a consequence, 3420 Aspern Development AG {07} has undertaken manifold endeavors to explore other options, but since priority is still given to economic aspects, in times of rather unpredictable economic perspectives, these endeavors are faced with many unknown parameters as to how this whole “new town” will develop. This unpredictability would require new modes of dealing with the “unplanned”—and here is where we saw the potential of Aspern Vienna's Urban Lakeside. Unfortunately, 3420 Aspern Development AG has not yet committed to shifting perspectives on a larger scale, or to taking the courage to shift their goals (and their vast marketing campaign) towards other burning topics. And these topics are evident: regarding the issue of migration and asylum-seeking, the programming of a “new city” could be a leading project engaging in issues that are currently dominating European politics, by far exceeding the city limits of Vienna (especially seeing as it is developed under a social democratic city government in which the urban planning department is headed by the Green Party). The unplannable aspect of growth could thus be committed to as a program—as it was already suggested by the cohabitation group que[e]rbau. Instead, temporary art programs like “PUBLIK_Art and Culture at the construction site” (curated by content.associates until 2013 {08}) have organized art and cultural events as “Zwischennutzung” (temporary use) since 2011. As PUBLIK was funded by the marketing department, expectations were clearly to bring in as many people as possible to the site to be developed. The budgets were allocated on a year-to-year basis, so that no longer-term perspective could be conceived. In addition, curators like Angelika Fitz produced temporary projects like the “aspern parliament” (with Oliver Hangl and Elke Krasny) as unusual acts of promoting Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside at the Vienna Real Estate Fair (2010). Also, the landscape planning office ZwoPK was commissioned to realize temporary elements like the “urban field” and “event square” for the area around the U2 subway station in

Barbara Holub

The construction of the Ring street as a representational boulevard replaced the fortification and ditches which had become obsolete; it was officially inaugurated by emperor Franz Joseph in 1865.

The site has a size of 240 hectars (which equals that of Vienna’s 7th and 8th districts taken together); it will provide 8,500 apartments for 20,000 residents and 20,000 jobs; the lake of 5 hectars is situated in a park of 9 hectars.

For a detailed chronology and analysis of the development, see, e.g.: Sabine Knierbein, Ali Madanipour; and Aglaee Degras, “Vienna_(Re)Framing Public Policies, (Re)Shaping Public Spaces?”, in Public Space and the Challenges of Urban Transformation in Europe; Ali Madanipour, Sabine Knierbein, and Aglaée Degros (eds.), Routledge 2014, p. 23–37.

07 http://www.wien3420.at; The owners of Wien 3420 AG: GELUP GmbH – 73.4 % (subsidiary of the Vienna Business Agency (www. wirtschaftsagentur.at), the VIENNA INSURANCE GROUP Wiener Städtische Versicherung AG (www.vig.com) and the building society Bausparkasse der österreichischen Sparkassen Aktien gesellschaft (www.sbausparkasse.at); Bundesimmobiliengesellschaft BIG (federal property administration) (www.big.at) – 26.6 %; http://www.aspern-seestadt.at/ 08 http://www.contentassociates.cc/

The Consortium FrEE FIELD

Pia Lanzinger, So wohnen wir (This Is How We Live) as part of Worlds of Living, kunstprojekte_riem, Messestadt Riem, Munich, 2001

Director of the public arts fund of Munich from 2000–2002; “Stadt. Kunst”, Lindinger and Schmid (eds.), 2001.

Quote from the paper “Demokratie und Auftragskunst” by Heinz Schütz, Munich, translated by Barbara Holub; http://www.stadtraumorg.de/archiv/ vortragschuetzpage.htm

the north, and the “lakeside pier” to offer an elevated view over the lake (2012). Numerous collaborations with Austrian and international universities added to activating the space temporarily and to communicating the project on an international level. So, while everything seems to be possible in Aspern, an overall art plan has not been developed—let alone one to assign a new role to artistic strategies of urban practitioners. Up to now, the role of art is still the one we know, the one which mends lacks, which creates events and which entertains and activates the first few hundred residents who have moved there by now (starting November/December of 2014) along with, of course, a so-called general audience. In Dec. 2010, the Aspern Beirat was established, an advisory board of local and international experts from various backgrounds ranging from planning to business. No one from the arts context was included. In 2014, a quarter management (“Stadtteilmanagement”) was installed as a continuation of PUBLIK, one of the tasks of which is to take care of cultural activities. But what impact do all these activities have—beyond what Heinz Schütz {09} calls the “white noise”, “pointing at one of the most frequent misunderstandings, or guidelines of understanding democracy: ‘Democratic bodies miss their goal if they want to define a space of representation for everyone. Ultimately, “democratic” means opening up a heterogeneous space, a field for articulation that does not reduce itself to the smallest common denominator, but creates clear profiles of individual voices in order to avoid the leveling “white noise”—in full awareness even of those forces in society which function beyond democratic voting procedures.’” {10}

Missing Things as a Potential for the Unplanned

As part of our “test site”, we conceived a collaboration between the Institute of Art and Design (Vienna University of Technology) and the HBKsaar (Academy of Fine Arts Saarbrücken / class of Georg Winter) in 2011 in order to connect the shifting perspectives between a shrinking city (Saarbrücken and the World Heritage Site of Völklingen, where Georg Winter’s class resides {11}) and a growing city (Vienna), and in order to raise awareness as to how fluid these processes are. {12} The students took a special interest in the black spot in the master plan—devoted to “religious use” –, providing an obviously not yet defined area in the master plan. This demanding open blind spot was the starting point for speculating on the Consortium Freies Feld (Consortium Free Field). The Consortium Freies Feld aimed at taking a small parcel of land of the future Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside off of investors’ interests and using it to discuss current urban issues in international workshops and symposiums with experts from diverse backgrounds—and on a parallel level providing open access to the public, discussing the diverse and often conflicting interests in urban development. Reversing the notion of a consortium as a merger of business interests, this atypical consortium meant to gather societal interests and social values and to find out how they could be placed in the foreground of current urban agendas beyond neoliberal interests and public–private partnerships. Since there was no burning interest of investors anyway, establishing the Consortium Freies Feld could have been the first step of involving artistic strategies in urban development in Vienna, discussing these in the context of other projects in Europe, and placing Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside in the Centrope region using a new approach. {13} Before exploring this and other “missing things” as a potential for the unplanned beyond Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside, I would like to look at the two reference projects.

2_“kunstprojekte_riem” Munich grew by 115,000 inhabitants in the last ten years (even though young people leave the city, because they cannot afford the high rents), therefore it has an urgent need for offering affordable housing. Messestadt (Fair City) Munich-Riem is a new urban quarter on the 556 hectars area of the former airport Munich-Riem, which was shut down in 1992. Unlike Vienna Aspern Lake City, this new urban development started with a central function, the fairgrounds, which opened in 1998—before the construction of the housing areas started. It was conceived for 16,000 residents (6,500 apartments) and envisioned the provision of industrial property for 13,000 jobs—which is a density significantly below that of Aspern Lake City. The generous landscape park to the south was also the site of the Bundesgartenschau (Federal Garden Expo) in 2005 (BUGA‘05). The Messestadt was scheduled to be completed in 2015. Envisioned as a social democratic model project based on the “Munich Mix”, which provides a mixture of social housing, independently funded housing, cooperative housing, and subsidized condominiums, the Messestadt has already recently been facing grave social problems (according to a study published in 2013) “due to heavy planning failures, a lack of infrastructure (like a high school, pre-schools and kindergardens) and a lack of social care for the high percentage of residents who live on welfare.” {14} Already during the planning period, the Messestadt was accompanied

Barbara Holub

Völklingen was one of the most prosperous cities in Germany around 1900.

See “Urbanmatters.coop”, published by the Institute of Art and Design/Vienna University of Technology, 2012.

See also the (German) text by Barbara Holub (ibid), here republished on p. 64 ff.

14 http://www.sueddeutsche.de/

muenchen/wohnen-in-der-messestadtriem-vom-vorzeigeviertel-zumghetto-1.1616604; translated by Barbara Holub.

by an ambitious public art strategy that focued on providing communication and creating identity, “kunstprojekte_riem”. It was curated by Claudia Büttner {15} based on the Riem-Studie (a preliminary study commissioned by the City of Munich in 1996) {16}, and realized between 2000 and 2003. “‘kunstprojekte_riem’ is a six-year pilot project financed by the City of Munich from its Art for Architecture budget, funds acquired as a result of a stipulation that a certain percentage of the costs involved in building municipal crèches, schools, fire stations etc. be set aside for art in and around buildings and in public places. These various sums of money were pooled in Messestadt Riem, enabling works of art to be created at public sites independently of individual building projects and in accordance with residents‘ wishes. The aim of ‘kunstprojekte_riem’ is to create art that reflects the interests of the public. Commissions must therefore take into account both the rapidly changing face of Messestadt Riem now and in the years to come and the varied concerns of those affected. For the artists, this means addressing the specifics of the suburb and engaging in a dialogue with those who commission their work—ultimately, the local residents. In their works, some of which are intended to be realised over a number of years, they focus on certain aspects of life in the new suburb. In addition, several projects are carried out each year in connection with a particular theme or motto.” {17} The public art strategy consisted of the following strands: → “Stadtmarken” (City Markers), 2000: “How do you create works of art for somewhere that does not really exist? The Munich suburb Messestadt Riem is such a place. People have already moved into some of the new accommodation, but much is still missing—the centre, for example. ‘Stadtmarken’ (city markers), initiated by ‘kunstprojekte_riem’, uses art to draw attention to some prominent features of Messestadt. The works of art shed new light on existing features or draw attention to various intermediate states in the birth of Messestadt. The artists have reacted to the transitional stages between unused land, building sites and the creation of a new suburb. They have also provided residents with points of identification in an environment in which the noise of building activity is omnipresent and a planned landscaped park nothing but a far-off vision.”

She won the competition in 1998 with a basic concept spanning seven years.

Published as “Stadt.Kunst” in 2001 (ed. Heinz Schütz); “kunstprojekte_riem: Öffentliche Kunst für einen Münchner Stadtteil / Public Art for a Munich District”, Claudia Büttner (ed.), Springer, 2004.

17 http://www.kunstprojekte-riem.de/

→ “Wohnwelten” (Worlds of Living), 2001 “Considering the ‚beginning stages‘ of life in the Messestadt, which over the next few years will also be determined by the permanent simultaneity of construction work, completion, and resurfacing of apartment buildings, one topic in particular concerns everyone: Living. Living is also a theme of contemporary art. Artists create uncommon installation art and design special atmospheres. Or they look into what ‚living‘ means for people. kunstprojekte_riem invited artists to realize different projects in the Messestadt Riem.”

→ “Gesellschaftsräume” (Societal Spaces), 2002 “The new suburb of Messestadt Riem is generating not only streets and squares, but also social groups, initiatives and communities. United by common interests, by gender, religion, origins or age, the members of these widely differing groupings gather in various indoor and outdoor spaces.

Missing Things as a Potential for the Unplanned

Schönes Wohnen in der Messestadt Riem (Living at Home at the Messestadt Riem), a magazine by Pia Lanzinger, published at Verlag Silke Schreiber, Munich, in 2010

Together, they constitute society in Messestadt. The year‘s theme or motto 2002 is ‚Gesellschaftsräume‘—the social spaces that are crystallising in the new residential district. kunstprojekte_riem has invited the following artists: Mauricio Dias & Walter Riedweg (Rio de Janeiro/Basle), Kathrin Böhm, Andreas Lang, Stefan Saffer (London/Berlin), Karin Sander (Stuttgart) & Lützow 7 (a team of landscape architects from Berlin), Sissel Tolaas (Oslo/Berlin).” {18}

In 2003, artists Stephen Craig, The Department of Public Appearances and Oda Projesi realized projects, and the international symposium „Urban Strategies. Art in Urban Development Areas“ took place. But what happened to “kunstprojekte_riem” then? The project ended prematurely in 2004, since “participation art always harbours the danger of declining into paternalistic, socio-educational welfare projects or of developing a kind of planning and conceptual over-protectiveness.” This was the official argument by Lydia Andrea Hartl, the head of the Cultural Department of the City of Munich. {19} The next steps were the Federal Garden Expo (2005) and what Hartl describes as “a new up-to-date course for art in public space in Munich from 2004 onwards.” This new course meant to reintroduce big sculptures: visible, permanent, creating a signifier for the Messestadt— something Claudia Büttner’s plan had also envisioned for the next phase. But she also emphasizes how seemingly invisible projects are inscribed in people’s minds and the memory of the Messestadt, thus raising the issue of “visibility” and “permanence” in a more complex way. Büttner further explains the problems she and the artists encountered by realizing their art projects and that “against all expectations there were particular difficulties, not caused by the residents and the unpredictability of how they would receive art, but due instead to the complexity of the areas of responsibility (or non-responsibility), the great economic pressure and the particular power structures in this district. […] Despite the suggestion, made at early stage, that art should be

Barbara Holub

18 http://www.kunstprojekte-riem. de/, accessed Jan. 12, 2015

19 In “kunstprojekte_riem:

Öffentliche Kunst für einen Münchner Stadtteil / Public Art for a Munich District”, Claudia Büttner (ed.), Springer, 2004, p. 9

The process of devising the elements of Beyond began by inviting six specialists to write an essay exploring their visions of the larger social developments concerning the public domain in Leidsche Rijn. These essays served as a resource for the art program and were made available to the artists. The Beyond scenario contained the following elements: → Action Research Action Research is a programme of temporary projects and rapid interventions by artists in neighbourhoods that are already occupied, whereby ‘Leidsche Rijn Now’ is the focal point; Leidsche Rijn as an area with new facilities and a community under construction.

White Spots, Beyond scenario for Leidsche Rijn, Utrecht (NL)

ibid. p. 45

In 2009, the continuation of employing art in the Messestadt was confirmed by the Committee on Culture of the City of Munich. The “new course” started with an invited artist competition, which Panamarenko won for “Knikkebeinen Ravens”, a huge sculpture conceived for the landscape area. In 2012, the artist informed the public arts committee that he could not resolve technical problems and therefore would not be able to realize the project. A new invited competition took place, pursuing the same goals as the last one.

“Vierde Nota Ruimtelijke Ordening Extra” translates as “Fourth Memorandum Spatial Planning Extra”; the goal is to construct 750,000 new apartments between 1995 and 2025. Vinex focuses on strengthening existing cities and urban areas thus reducing exploitation of the land, traffic and unnecessary mobility. It also aims at reducing the quality difference between the rental sector and the buying sector. (see: http://www.deappel.nl/cp/p/34/; accessed Jan. 31, 2015.)

“Beyond” was devised by a study group led by Peter Kuenzli, former director of Property Development Leidsche Rijn. The group consisted of an art ist (Jan van Grunsven), an architecture critic (Bernard Colenbrander), artistic consultants (Tom van Gestel, Govert Grosveld), and a former representative from the Department of Cultural Affairs (Mariette Dölle). To download the list go to: http://www.beyondutrecht.nl/ index2.php?sub=3

Parasite Paradise, Leidsche Rijn, 2003

concretely involved in the formulation of concepts, that is in the assessment of the architecture competitions, such an approach was never adopted—due in part to the influence of the chamber of architects.” {20} As another problem she highlights the shortage of space—the discrepancy between the vast empty areas, which were yet unavailable even for temporary use due to the high economic pressure to develop property. {21}

3_“Beyond Leidsche Rijn” In 1995, the Leidsche Rijn Master Plan was completed and in 1997, the construction of this suburban extension of the City of Utrecht started as one of twenty-seven urban extension areas as part of the Vinex program {22}. This was designated in 1993 by the Dutch Ministry of Housing, Spatial Planning and the Environment in order to address the housing shortage. Leidsche Rijn was the largest Vinex site and planned for about 70,000 inhabitants. The Visual Arts Advisory Board proclaimed the necessity of a special arts plan that should develop along with the construction site. In 1999, Peter Kuenzli, former director of Property Development in Leidsche Rijn, approached Tom van Gestel (SKOR) to develop an art plan. From the beginning, Van Gestel emphasized the interest to identify gaps in the planning process, make them visible through art—but to not resolve problems of the master plan. In 2000, the scenario “Beyond Leidsche Rijn” was conceived as the “Vinex assignment for art”. {23} The Beyond Foundation was commissioned by Utrecht City Council and established for a period of fifteen years. Beyond developed a special communication and discussion system called “looping” to ensure a loop connecting the public, producers and decision-makers throughout the whole process of preparation, implementation and beyond.

Missing Things as a Potential for the Unplanned

→ Parasites What are Parasites? This is the umbrella name for mobile architecture and experimental forms of light urban development; residential and professional spaces that can be easily moved and require very few facilities. But parasites can also fulfil all kinds of other functions such as a catering pavilion, a gym, cinema or ice-cream parlour.

→ Looping Looping is the ‘communication department’ of Beyond. Looping not only notifies residents and interested parties of the projects, it also encourages participation in Beyond’s activities and seeks to stimulate debate on the art programme. A platform for that debate is available on this site. In addition, Looping tells visual stories featuring a number of fictional characters. These stories are a means to communicate all aspects of Leidsche Rijn. The subjects dealt with can be related to various public activities. They can be found on the homepage, where you can also view previous episodes.

→ Director Artists In Director Artists, artists are invited to contribute to the design of several major infrastructure projects. In the Netherlands, the term Vinex is often associated with large, boring residential areas. We use art to conceive strategies that can be a creative solution to this.

→ Artist Houses In the project Artist Houses, Beyond invites a number of artists to intervene in the urban reality of Leidsche Rijn. This could include projects like building a house or organizing an event.

→ White Spots Leidsche Rijn will not be built in one day; the establishment of Leidsche Rijn as a new community is a long process. With the White Spots programme we join in that process. ‘Beyond’ will buy a number of plots and sites in Leidsche Rijn. This will lead to a number of ‘empty’ spaces in the middle of the neighbourhoods: white spots on the map. These sites can be used for

Barbara Holub

temporary art projects. Eventually, Beyond will sell these plots and then buildings can still be erected on them.” {24}

24 http://www.beyondutrecht.nl/ index2.php?sub=3

At the time he was the director of Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen in Rotterdam; since 2012, he has been the director of Tate Modern, London.

Cor Wijn, “Battling the Unease_ Reflection on 10 Years of Beyond”, in: Art as Urban Strategy_Beyond Leidsche Rijn (eds. Tom van Gestel, Henriette Heezen, Nathalie Zonnenberg), NAi Publishers, 2009, p. 100ff.

Peter Kuenzli was director of Leidsche Rijn Project Office from 1995–1999. He is director of Gideon Consult, in which capacity he serves as project director or consultant of numerous complex urban regeneration plans.

29 ibid. 30

Locating the Producers_ Durational Approaches to Public Art, eds. Paul O’Neill, Claire Doherty, Antennae Series no. 4 by valiz, 2011.

31 http://www.

nouveauxcommanditaires.eu

The New Patrons in Germany are: GfZK, Hartware-Kunstverein Dortmund, Künstlerhaus Stuttgart, ACC-Galerie Weimar, Brandenburgischer Kunstverein Potsdam, Deichtorhallen Hamburg.

The various strands of Beyond—from creating communication and temporary interventions up to installing large-scale art projects and buildings on site—were critically engaged in the contemporary discourse of art involved in urban issues and reflected the role of artists in an ongoing process. Beyond continues to address critical aspects in their final publication, which does not shy away from highlighting the discrepancy of art engaging in urban development and the dominant interests of market forces. In a seminar in March 2001 in Utrecht about the role of visual arts in Leidsche Rijn, Chris Dercon {25} took the opportunity to comment on the Beyond scenario to denounce the Dutch consensus society. He said that “the ’Art Policy“ had been superseded by a communication strategy intended to help implement the overall project.” {26} Peter Kuenzli and Martin Mulder {27} conceded that in spite of “trying to be provocative, they did not always succeed. [...] In fact what we have learned from this whole experience, perhaps, is that a cultural program cannot penetrate to the heart of that big machine. [...] The art program chains itself to the monster of urban development in the idealistic hope that it can be an agent of change, create something different. That the impetus came from the municipal authority could be construed as a perfect example of Herbert Marcuse’s notion of ‘repressive tolerance’.” {28} Bernard Colenbrander, who compiled and co-authored the “Vinex Assignment for Art”, conceded: “We are fully aware that reality is shaped by market forces and try to compensate by inserting scope for incalcitrant ideas. [...] But the question arises of whether art can act as a countervailing force against the commonplace or if it is just a placebo.” Here the ambivalent role of art in urban development becomes evident. When Kuenzli considers culture as a “fourth pillar—besides the economic, social and physical planning pillars” {29}, this reveals the problem of culture being added as an extra to the dominant “pillars” of urban development rather than being involved as integral part within these other pillars. Only then, participating in these meetings as equal experts with an equal voice in decision-making, artists could question the dominant parameters. They could play out the potential of resistance and being a critical element. The responsibility would be returned to the economic “players”—which would already count as a big success—rather than art being “tolerated” (and thus made insignificant) as a critical voice, which brings us back to Marcuse’s text from 1977, which is very much up-to-date yet again. In his research project “Locating the Producers_Durational Approaches to Public Art”, Paul O’Neill analyzed “Beyond Leidsche Rijn” as one of five in-depth case studies {30}, and he also mentioned preceding projects of artists returning the voice to public engagement, like the “Nouveau Commenditaires” (conceived by Belgian artist François Hers, established in 1991) {31}. Since 2009, the “Neue Auftraggeber/New Patrons” also exist in Germany (initiated by Alexander Koch/Berlin), where they have six partners by now {32}. Shifting the expertise from commissioners or curators, it is now citizens or associations that are encouraged to take initiative to realize art projects in a collaborative process for their chosen urban or regional context. Whereas the projects realized by the Nouveau Commenditaires were mostly still large-scale public art projects, the New Patrons in Germany are rather engaged in vital urban issues.

Missing Things as a Potential for the Unplanned

These Missing Things shaped the content of the “2nd World Non-Congress of the Missing Things” in Vienna’s Aspern Lake Side. They were submitted by the first some forty residents and by some of the 2.000 construction workers. For the “Non-Congress” students of Social Design/University of Applied Arts Vienna developed urban interventions based on these issues.

Barbara Holub

Speaking of innovative approaches of art engaging in societal issues, the Artist Placement Group (APG) is a seminal initiative to place artists within the system in order to enable change. It was founded by John Latham and Barbara Steveni in 1966. The organization actively sought to reposition the role of the artist within a wider social context, including government and commerce, while at the same time playing an important part in the history of conceptual art during the 1960s and 1970s. In 1972, the Arts Council discontinued funding on the basis that the ‘APG is more concerned with Social Engineering than with pure art’. Barbara Steveni negotiated the “Whitehall Memorandum” with the UK government, documenting the support of artist placements within government institutions. It was agreed that there was a bilateral interest between artist activity and government activity, which later lead to a number of APG placements. Invited by Joseph Beuys, the APG participated in Documenta 6 (Kassel, Germany, 1977), and held a series of podium exchanges with German government officials in Bonn, which led to the first international artist-with-government placement. {33}

4_What now? The Potential of Missing Things What is missing now? What will be missing when Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside will be “completed” in some 15 years from now? Is it possible to “finish” a new urban development project today, or do not the fast changes in society require an ongoing adjustment according to changing parameters of society? Missing things can be considered a chance; they can be explored as a new strategy for involving artistic practices in urban development, as we did in the “Second World Non-Congress of the Missing Things” in Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside on Nov. 23, 2014. {34} By shifting the format of a congress into an artistic strategy for creating an emancipatory situation, people on site can reveal hidden qualities and agendas to be recognized. The question is: Why did Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside not commission a durational public art project based on the experience of projects like the ones mentioned above? What difference would it have made to shift the marketing budget to art projects engaging in urban issues? Why did Public Art Vienna not take the initiative to develop a concept? They would have had the potential to produce an innovative approach of engaging art in urban issues, based on the projects mentioned above. New cultural initiatives were started in early 2015. Now the annual marketing budget of 500,000 euros was handed over to curator Jürgen Weishäupl for producing cultural venues (which he calls “salotto”/”salon”), while artist Jan Lauth was commissioned to conceive the “seeLab”. But can these initiatives make up for a durational concept addressing current societal issues as an integral aspect of a new urban development, providing “urbanity” beyond singular moments of cultural events? As already mentioned, many cultural producers, artists and international university programs have engaged in providing new perspectives and meaningful and critical contributions—but what impact did all these endeavors actually have? 33

See: http://www2.tate.org.uk/ artistplacementgroup/

For details, see: www.missingthings.org

Let us now return to the question at the beginning: What can we learn from Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside? “Missed opportunities” can be considered a tool to engage in producing new visions instead of lamenting. To admit “failure”, i.e. that something has been missed (a certain point in time, a certain

Missing Things as a Potential for the Unplanned

Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside, November 2014

aspect), or that parameters changed and that therefore new strategies are needed, possibly reframing the context and shifting the focus, must finally be considered a strength rather than a weakness. Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside would still have the potential to realize a model for a new, contemporary city, developing a new approach towards process-oriented planning strategies and creating a lively urban public space, where contradiction is allowed and the risk of “unpopular” decisions can be taken. It was decided to advertise this new urban development as Aspern Vienna’s “urban lakeside” rather than, say, an “international city” claiming the obvious potential of positioning it between the “former East” and the “former West” (and connecting to ideas of creating a Centrope region, which Erhard Busek had envisioned after the fall of the Iron Curtain). This decision was based on the conviction that it would gain a larger acceptance by the public. But who is “the public”? “Unpopular” decisions would require the courage to proclaim a social equilibrium as an intrinsic societal value and to introduce means that would contribute to that. Current burning questions of our society include the unresolved issues of people seeking asylum and the ongoing migration process. How could these issues be located in a new urban development? As mentioned already, one of the cohabitation groups in Aspern Lake City, que[e]rbau, has phrased their intention of providing space for queer asylum seekers in their building—and they even want to expand the initiative to the other housing areas. {35} Committing to these burning issues as a marketing strategy for a „new city“ and displaying the courage to tackle them rather than providing “bread and circuses” as a placebo in the sense of what Marcuse described as “repressive tolerance” would actually make a difference. What if a city dared to announce its new strategies outspokenly as “unpopular”?

Barbara Holub

35 que[e]rbau:

http://queerbau.mixxt.at/

PLAN OHNE PLANUNG EINFACHE ANTIZIPATORISCHE GRUNDÜBUNGEN ZUR VERBESSERUNG DER LEBENSUMSTÄNDE ZUKÜNFTIGER BEWOHNERINNEN {01} [ Georg Winter ]

Pläne machen ist mehrmalen eine üppige, prahlerische Geistesbeschäftigung, dadurch man sich nie ein Ansehen von schöpferischem Genie gibt, in dem man fordert, was man selbst nicht leisten, tadelt, was man doch nicht besser machen kann, und vorschlägt, wovon man selbst nicht weiß, wo es zu finden ist. (Immanuel Kant)

Dieser Text wurde erstmals 2012 veröffentlicht in: urbanmatters.coop, Institut für Kunst und Gestaltung 1, TU Wien; HBKsaar, Saarbrücken, Klasse für Bildhauerei / Public Art (Hrsg.)

Wer sich am „Planning Unplanned“-Kooperationsprojekt des Instituts für Kunst und Gestaltung 1 der Fakultät für Architektur und Raumplanung, TU Wien und des S_A_R Projektbüros (S_A_R StadtAktionRecherche / Situativ AnastrophalRadikal) der Hochschule der Bildenden Künste Saar, Dependance Völklingen, wirklich beteiligt hat – das sind zirka 30 Personen, Studierende und Lehrende – ist erschüttert und hoffentlich nicht mehr dazu in der Lage, seine künstlerischen und planerischen Strategien, Praktiken und Vorhaben wie gewohnt fortzuführen. Der Grad einer Erschütterung wird von Person zu Person unterschiedlich, jedoch merklich auf körperlicher und mentaler Ebene registriert und memoriert. Eine Vielzahl von Mechanorezeptoren, beispielsweise die Vater-Pacini-Körperchen, die sich unter anderem in der Subkutis, der Unterhaut, aber auch an großen Sehnenplatten oder der Knochenhaut befinden, transduktieren den mechanischen Reiz einer Vibration, einer Erschütterung, in eine elektrische Potenzialänderung, die zum Zustandsraum „Körper“ beiträgt. Beispiel: Sie fallen rückwärts vom Container des Urban Research Institutes auf den Parkplatz des Weltkulturerbes Völklinger Hütte. Sie kommen abgebremst durch Schaumstoffe und Kartonagen auf den Boden. Die schnell adaptierenden Rezeptoren leiten eine Raumerfahrung weiter, die in anderen Fällen von Transduktionen der Schmerzrezeptoren überlagert wird und eine komplett andere Wahrnehmung des Platzes im Verhältnis zu Körper und Gravitation konstruiert. Die „slowly adapting“ Rezeptoren sind im Gegensatz dazu langsam adaptierende Mechanorezeptoren, die auf einen lang andauernden Reiz reagieren: Sie stehen stundenlang auf dem Parkplatz des Weltkulturerbes Völklinger Hütte und Ihr Körpergewicht lastet auf der Fußsohle (lat. planta). Eine Kontinuität der Aktionspotenziale bildet sich aus, senkrechte Reize, Druck und Zug spielen eine Rolle. Für die nachhaltige Information des Körpers und seinen Zustandsraum ist die Dauer der Reizung nicht relevant. Ein punktuelles Ereignis kann dauerhafte Auswirkungen erzielen, wie ein dauerhaftes Vorgehen punktuelle.

Plan ohne Planung

Stehen wir auf den Fußsohlen, was beim Lesen dieses Textes zu empfehlen ist, kommen wir dem ursprünglichen Planungsbegriff näher. Das lateinische Wort „plantare“ heißt so viel wie „feststampfen“ und ist eng mit dem Begriff „planta“ – der Fußsohle – verbunden. Bei „plantare“ geht es genauer gesagt um den Vorgang des Einpflanzens von Setzlingen, die dabei mithilfe der Fußsohlen durch feststampfendes Verdichten des Erdreichs (Meliorisa tionsarbeiten) im Boden ihren Platz finden. Festlegung des Ortes, Abstände der Setzlinge untereinander, ihre Anzahl, Art und Behandlung durch den Menschen lassen sich in der Summe als Pflanzung, später als „Plantage“ bezeichnen. Die Pflanzung begründet unseren Siedlungs- und Wachstumsbegriff. Planungs- beziehungsweise Stampfrhythmen finden in zeitlich-räumlichen Verhältnissen und Verschiebungen statt und verlangen antizipatorische Fähigkeiten und Intuitionen. Nach dem Biologen Denis Meuthen spielt sich das Leben in einer räumlichen und einer zeitlichen Ordnung von Rhythmen ab. Periodenlängen biologischer Rhythmen umfassen die Spanne von Millisekunden bis Jahren. Organismen, die regelmäßige Veränderungen ihrer Umwelt voraussagen, antizipieren können, haben einen Überlebensvorteil. Die wichtigsten voraussagbaren Zeitstrukturen auf der Erde sind der Gezeitenzyklus (12,5 Std.), der Tag-Nacht-Zyklus (24 Std.), der Mondzyklus (28,5 Tage) und der Jahreszyklus (365,25 Tage). Antizipation in diesen Zeiträumen ist nur möglich, wenn ihre Struktur verinnerlicht ist, Teil der körperlichen Existenz ist. Wen wundert es dann noch, außer die AktivistInnen selbst, dass eine Gruppe KünstlerInnen, ArchitektInnen, StadtforscherInnen und PerformerInnen auf dem zukünftigen Gelände der Seestadt Aspern im Wiener Becken, am westlichsten Rande des eurasischen Steppengürtels, Erde verdichten, im Kreis stampfen, Luft in einem See einschließen, einen koreanisch-europäischen Trockengarten anlegen, mit einer Gartenarche auf einen See ausfahren, mithilfe einer Sauna die Körper erhitzen, um sie dann wieder abzukühlen, etc. Die Vergegenwärtigung der Zukunft speist sich aus der Geschichte des Geländes. Die Geschichte eines Geländes nimmt Einfluss auf zukünftige Zustände, die wiederum die gegenwärtigen Zustände beeinflussen. Heinz von Foerster sagt: „Die Ursache liegt in der Zukunft.“ Das kultivierende der Planung verdichtet zunehmend Boden und Gelände. In Wien-Aspern gelang es 2010 dem S_A_R Team in einer ersten Arbeitsphase durch einfache antizipatorische Grundübungen, die Lebensumstände zukünftiger BewohnerInnen zu verbessern. Auf dem Flugfeld komprimierte der Druck des Abhebens von Flugzeugen seine Begründung ins Flugfeld. Beschleunigung von Motorfahrzeugen ließ Orte zurück. Über einen längeren Zeitraum führen diese Vorgänge das zurückgelassene Gelände in ein antizipatorisches Feld der Bereitschaft zukünftiger Verrichtungen. Das Zurückgelassen-Sein eines Geländes in Wechselwirkung mit Kompression kann durch Bauarbeiten allein nicht wirklich in einen Zustand der Gelassenheit transformiert werden. Akute Baumaßnahmen sind alles andere als gelassen. Sie können aufgrund ihrer Zieldynamik gar nicht gelassen sein, weil sie mit hohen Erwartungen des zukünftigen Bewohnens verbunden sind. Ambulante Meliorationsarbeiten scheinen sinnvoll, um die zukünftige Bewohnung zu verbessern und um das Gelände für die Zukunft zurückzuholen. Gesellschaften, die ihre Planungen realisieren, haben im übertragenen Sinne Verdichtungen geschaffen, die zu Desertation, zu Verwüstung und Dehydration führen können. Auflockerungsarbeiten und Bewässerung sind notwendig. Derselbe Bewegungsrhythmus, der den Boden verdichtet, dient bei den Lockerungs-

Georg Winter

maßnahmen über die Veränderung der Fußsohle zum Beispiel in eine Nagelsohle zur Bodenentlüftung. Mit 30 Nagelschuhen und dem Planungsrhythmus der Lockerung bewegten sich die AktivistInnen auf dem Gelände. Allein die antizipatorische Fähigkeit entscheidet, wann der richtige Zeitpunkt gekommen ist, den Rhythmus umzukehren, zu bewässern oder gegebenenfalls trockenzulegen. Das Gegenwärtige, das Feststampfende der Planung ist die Planung selbst. Das Zukünftige, aus der Planung Resultierende ist etwas anderes. Das andere Zukünftige, welches durch die jetzige Planung hervorgebracht wird, unterscheidet sich grundlegend von der Planung, muss wieder im Gegensatz zur planerischen Verdichtung aufgelockert werden und wird auf diese nicht mehr zurückzuführen sein. Deshalb nimmt der ideale Plan seine Verwerfung vorweg. Wer seinen Plan verworfen hat, ist mitten in der Planung. Die Verwerfung liegt dicht an der Depression (Quattara Depression), weil es nicht einfach ist, die Enttäuschung in einen großen Wurf zu transformieren. So verhält es sich auch mit den Mechanorezeptoren, die es schaffen, ihr Rezeptorpotenzial beim Überschreiten einer Schwelle durch die Öffnung potenzialabhängiger Natriumkanäle in ein Aktionspotenzial umzuwandeln, welches uns die Erschütterung gewahr werden lässt. Das hierbei notwendige künstlerische Potenzial hören wir aus dem Lied in Brechts Dreigroschenoper: „Ja mach nur einen Plan / sei nur ein großes Licht / und mach noch einen zweiten Plan / gehen tun sie beide nicht.“ Gerade dieses „Nicht-Gehen“ von Planung, lässt uns aufstampfen (plantere). Modelle, die eine Vorstellung des Zukünftigen darstellen sollen, sind im Idealfall 1:1-Modelle, also Wirklichkeitsmodelle. Wie können solche 1:1-Modelle aussehen? Die gegenwärtigen Planungsstrategien motivieren sich aus einer Vision, vielleicht auch aus einer Utopie, für ein Kind, das noch nicht geboren ist, ein Zimmer zu bauen und es einzurichten. Ein unheimliches, aber oft praktiziertes Projekt. Vielleicht auch die einzige reelle Handlungsform, die uns die Angst vor dem Zukünftigen vorwegnimmt, weil es doch bekanntermaßen vergänglich ist. Im Jetzt auf die Zukunft einzuwirken, kann einerseits beruhigen, wie bei Eltern, die sich auf das in naher Zukunft zur Welt kommende Kind vorbereiten, andererseits birgt das Paradoxon des konstruktiven Missverständnisses eine Absurdität, die künstlerische Prozesse erst möglich macht. Die Tücke liegt im Verhältnis von Vorstellung, unmittelbarer Vorwegnahme und vergangener, erfahrener Vergeblichkeit von Vorstellung und Vorwegnahme. Lucius Burckhardt (Spaziergangswissenschaftler und Gründungsmitglied der HBKsaar) schreibt in seinem Aufsatz „Macht die moderne Architektur uns unfrei?“ im Kapitel „Das Phantom der Familie im Jahre 2011“: „... es kann aber kein Mensch fünfzig Jahre vorausplanen ... uns interessiert hier der Grundriss der Mietwohnung. Da treffen wir auf das entgegengesetzte Phänomen: Weil die Wohnung für alle passen soll und weil sie fünfzig Jahre lang einen Zins abwerfen muss, deshalb ist sie für keine bestimmte Familie gemacht. Nicht einmal für die durchschnittliche Familie unserer Jahre. Nicht die reale Familie von 1960 liegt der Wohnung als Muster zugrunde, sondern ein Phantom, das Phantom der Familie der nächsten 50 Jahre, wie sie der Planer sich vorstellt.“ {02}

Walk on Urban Periphery 4, Simple anticipatory basic exercises for improving the living conditions of the future residents by Georg Winter and S_A_R Team (as part of On Urban Periphery by Barbara Holub). Nov. 2010, Aspern Vienna’s Urban Lakeside

Das Phantom der Familie 2061 in der Seestadt Wien-Aspern könnte 100 Jahre nach Lucius Burckhardts Statement ein Phantom ohne Familie sein, wenn die demografische Entwicklung in den kommenden 50 Jahren anhält. Wenn die Familie als möglicher planerischer Maßstab der 2060er-Jahre wegfällt, bleibt nur ein Phantom. Wie können wir heute dem Phantom des Jahres 2061 begegnen? Mit künstlerischen Planungshilfen? Ist der Trockengarten eine Möglichkeit? Eine Plantage ohne Pflanzen, die die Vergegenständlichung des Wassers vorwegzunehmen in der Lage ist? Zieht uns der Verlust jeder planerischen Grundlage den Boden unten den Füßen weg, oder können wir mit spirituellen Methoden dem notwendigen Scheitern der Planung einen existenziellen Auftritt verschaffen, den der No-Meister Seami (14. Jahrhundert) trotz berechtigter Bedenken auf Grund räumlicher, zeitlicher und kultureller Differenzen anzuleiten scheint?

Lucius Burckhardt: „Macht die moderne Architektur uns unfrei?“, in: Dokumente der Gegenwart, Sonder beilage der FAZ, Nr. 9, 11.1.1961.

Einfaches Aufstampfen – tan, doppeltes Aufstampfen – tanta, dreifaches Aufstampfen – tantatan, leichtes Trippeln – tottottot, lautloses Auftreten, leises Auftreten, wiederholtes Aufstampfen – tantantotanta, Rückwärtsschritt nach links, Linksschritt mit dem linken Fuß, Rechtsschritt mit dem rechten Fuß, überstürzter Schritt – haraha, vierfaches Aufstampfen – tantatanta.*

Plan ohne Planung

Georg Winter

Diese Übung ist an der HBKsaar im interdisziplinären Studium (Modulhandbuch Plan B) grundlegend.

PLANNING UNPLANNED {01} WO IST DIE KUNST? [ Barbara Holub, 2012]

Dieser Text wurde erstmals 2012 veröffentlicht in: urbanmatters.coop, Institut für Kunst und Gestaltung 1, TU Wien; HBKsaar, Saarbrücken, Klasse für Bildhauerei / Public Art (Hrsg.)

Siehe dazu „Locating the Producer“, in dem Paul O’Neill fünf „durational art projects“ untersucht hat, z. B. „Beyond Leidsche Rijn“, Utrecht (kuratiert von Tom van Gestel / SKOR), Valiz, 2011; sowie die Vortragsreihe „urbanmatters.lecture“.

„Planning Unplanned“ ist ein von Barbara Holub geleitetes Forschungs projekt am Institut für Kunst und Gestaltung 1, TU Wien, das die Rolle von Kunst im Kontext urbaner Entwicklung untersucht.

Kunst war in Aspern Seestadt nicht vorgesehen. Dies ist verwunderlich, wird doch gerade Kunst und Kultur oft die Aufgabe zugeschrieben, „Leben“ und Lebendigkeit anzuregen und zu entfalten, Aspekte, die für das Leben in einer neuen Stadt „notwendig“ sind, um lebenswert zu werden. Die paradoxe Frage ist demgegenüber aber, wie „Leben“ und Lebendigkeit geplant werden können – ist doch ein wesentliches Merkmal von Lebendigkeit genau das Unvorhergesehene, das, was eben nicht geplant werden kann. Kunst und künstlerischen Strategien wird dabei eine Expertise gezollt, die von anderen an Planung beteiligten Disziplinen und ExpertInnen nicht übernommen werden kann. Im Kontext von Stadtentwicklung gibt es einerseits die gezielte Nachfrage nach dem Stachel, den Kunst in Form eines kritischen Widerparts platzieren kann, wie andererseits die Anfragen nach „positiver“ Wirksamkeit: Identitätsstiftung, Initiierung von Kommunikationsprozessen, Konfliktlösung, und – nicht zuletzt – Imageaufwertung. All diese Rollen wurden sowohl von KuratorInnen bewusst eingesetzt als auch von KünstlerInnen selbst initiiert. {02} „Planning Unplanned“ {03} untersucht das Potenzial der Kunst, innerhalb und mittels dieser neuen Rollen Tools und Strategien für urbane Prozesse zu entwickeln, die der Logik des Neoliberalismus und dem Glauben an unendliches wirtschaftliches Wachstum als treibende Kraft eine Absage erteilen. Als ein wesentliches Element von „Planning Unplanned“ wurde deshalb die Website www.urban-matters.org installiert. Diese sammelt weltweit Projekte, die sowohl von KünstlerInnen als auch von ArchitektInnen/ UrbanistInnen, SoziologInnen und anderen urbanen ProfessionistInnen initiiert bzw. realisiert wurden und werden. Das Hauptaugenmerk liegt auf der Entwicklung unkonventioneller, längerfristig wirksamer Methoden für aktuelle urbane Fragestellungen. Diese Projektsammlung dient sowohl als Recherchewerkzeug für die Zusammenstellung verschiedener Tools und Strategien als auch für die Filterung von relevanten Fragestellungen. „Planning Unplanned“ hatte von Beginn an das Ziel, Forschung und Praxis zu verknüpfen und als gleichwertige Elemente zu verfolgen, die sich gegenseitig verflechten. Dieses Anliegen „Forschung durch Praxis“ wurde wohl immer wieder von jenen KünstlerInnen und UrbanistInnen, die neue Praktiken entwickelt haben, als ein weiterer wesentlicher Aspekt verfolgt, jedoch bis dato kaum ernsthaft wahrgenommen. Ein Forschungsprojekt, das an einem Kunstinstitut an einer Technischen Universität angesiedelt ist, ist prädestiniert, die Verbindung von Forschung und Praxis, auch in der Lehre, anhand der Durchführung eines komplexen Projektes nun nochmals zu betonen.

Planning Unplanned – Wo ist die Kunst?

Deshalb suchten wir für das Forschungsprojekt auch nach einer Möglichkeit, ein konkretes Projekt in der Planungsphase mitzuverfolgen, um unmittelbar auf die jeweiligen Fragestellungen, Probleme und sich verändernden Parameter Bezug nehmen und daraus wiederum Erkenntnisse für „Planning Unplanned“ insgesamt ziehen zu können. Die Wahl fiel auf eine „test site“ in Wien, die zukünftige Aspern-Seestadt. Dieses größte Stadtentwicklungsprojekt der nächsten zwanzig Jahre in Wien (und eines der größten in Europa), eine „neue Stadt zwischen Wien und Bratislava“ {04}, bietet dafür eine außergewöhnliche Situation – von der Wien 3420 Aspern Development AG selbst als „Ausnahmezustand“ im Oktober 2011 beim Aspern City Lab bezeichnet.

Was heiSSt unplanning bzw. planning unplanned? Fragen nach der Planbarkeit von Stadt wurden in den letzten Jahren aus verschiedenen Perspektiven immer wieder gestellt, meist aber in Zusammenhang mit dem Phänomen der ungeplanten räumlichen Aneignung in Form von Landnahme vor allem in schnell wachsenden Ballungsgebieten wie z. B. den Gecekondos in Istanbul. Die Zufälligkeit des Ungeplanten soll dabei eher ausgemerzt werden, als dass sie als Produktivkraft sozialen Handelns verstanden wird. Umgekehrt gibt es mittlerweile eine Vielzahl von Projektsteuerungsmechanismen, mit denen versucht wird, gewünschte Entwicklungen so zu begünstigen, dass diese auch tatsächlich eintreten – wobei dem Ungeplanten dabei wenig bis kein Raum zukommt. Wie können künstlerische Strategien für „unplanning“ (eines herkömmlichen Masterplans) entwickelt werden? Inwieweit ist oder soll eine „neue Stadt“ überhaupt planbar sein? Der Stadtsoziologe Hartmut Häußermann betonte das Ende der Planung bereits in Bezug auf die Messestadt MünchenRiem 2004 {05}: „‚Städtisch‘ ist die Koexistenz des Heterogenen auf engem Raum. Das kann geplant werden mithilfe von Nutzungsbestimmungen, unterschiedlichen Gebäuden und einem inszenierten Mix von kommerziellen Aktivitäten. Aber Planung ist hinsichtlich des Städtischen letztlich immer Begrenzung, Ausschluss von Unerwünschtem, um Raum zu lassen für andere Zwecke.“ Und: „Heute müssen Planer lernen, nicht alles planen zu wollen.“ Vielfach haben sich UrbanistInnen mit der Veränderung der Rolle der ArchitektInnen befasst – und wenig hat sich in realen Planungsverfahren dadurch tatsächlich verändert. So beschreibt und fordert Klaus Overmeyer (urban catalysts) 2003, wie auch andere, die sich verändernde Rolle der PlanerInnen dahingehend, dass diese mehr in die Rolle von ErmöglicherInnen, AgentInnen oder MediatorInnen schlüpfen sollten. {06} Dies resultierte noch aus der Hoffnung, dass die neuen Strategien tatsächlich eine Chance hätten, die gängigen Mechanismen und Machtinteressen von Stadtplanung zu durchbrechen. Aus der heutigen Perspektive erscheint diese Forderung zu bescheiden und zu wenig weitgreifend. Durch die grundlegenden und derzeit nicht absehbaren gesellschaftlichen Umbruchsituationen stellen sich Fragen von Inklusion und Exklusion, von aktuellen und zukünftigen Wertvorstellungen von Gemeinschaft und damit der gesellschaftlichen Verantwortung von Stadtplanung unter völlig neuen Parametern. Dies bedeutet auch, dass Schlagwörter wie „lebenswert“ oder „öffentlich nutzbarer Raum“ als Qualitäten noch intensiver eingefordert und weiterentwickelt und auch mentale Grenzen überschritten werden müssen. Die neuen Kommunikationsplattformen

Barbara Holub

04 Mit diesem Slogan wird die Aspern-Seestadt beworben. 05

Hartmut Häußermann: Wie wird ein Stadtteil urban?, in: Kunstprojekte Riem, Springer Verlag, 2004, S. 232.

Siehe Klaus Overmeyer. Mit Zwischennutzungen Stadt entwickeln, in: Hier entsteht_Strategien partizipativer Architektur und räumlicher Aneignung, Jesko Fezer, Mathias Heyden (Hrsg.), metroZones / b_books, 2003, S. 48.

(Stichwort: Web 2.0) unterstützen eine Kombination von Aktivismus und sozialen Netzwerken und eröffnen so einen ungeahnten politischen Handlungsraum, der über künstlerische Projekte kaum erreicht werden kann. Bewegungen wie Stuttgart 21 oder der Protest gegen den Wahlbetrug in Russland sind nur Beispiele der letzten Zeit ... Wenn die BürgerInnen sich also selbst ermächtigen, sind die „PlanerInnen“ umso mehr aufgerufen, ihre Rolle neu zu definieren. Wenig wurde bis jetzt untersucht, wie „unplanning“ oder „planning unplanned“ nicht aus einer Not- oder Mangelsituation heraus, sondern als aktiver Akt angelegt werden könnte, der die Möglichkeiten eines offenen und nicht vorherbestimmten Prozesses exploriert. Es erfordert also eine neue Art des aktiven urbanen Handelns, das weit über die konventionellen Grenzen der Disziplinen von Stadtplanung und Urban Design (Praxis) oder Stadtforschung (Theorie) oder Kunst im öffentlich-urbanen Raum hinausgeht, um neue Formen gemeinwirtschaftlicher Ökonomien zu entwickeln, Verantwortlichkeit in die Komplexität der Zukunftsfragen unserer Gesellschaft einzubetten und der Entscheidungsfindung aufgrund neoliberaler Wirtschaftsinteressen eine Absage zu erteilen.

Wo ist die Kunst? „Wo ist die Kunst?“, fragt Thomas Kaestle doppeldeutig in seinem gleichnamigen Buch von 2004. {07} Er bezieht sich dabei auf das „Betriebssystem Kunst“, das immer noch in sich geschlossen sei. Kunst, die sich andere Orte außerhalb dieses Systems suche, im urbanen Raum {08}, würde oftmals immer noch nicht als „gleichwertig“ zur Kunst im Museum betrachtet. „Kunst muß sich am Verordneten stoßen und kann nicht Teil der Inszenierung werden.“ (Hartmut Häußermann)

Thomas Kaestle, Wo ist die Kunst? Zur Geographie von Schnittstellen, Kerber Verlag, 2004; zitiert nach www. thomas-kaestle.de/woistdiekunst.html. Dezember 2010.

Im Deutschen oft noch zu allgemein als „öffentlicher Raum“ bezeichnet – im Gegensatz zum Raum der Kunstinstitutionen, der jedoch meist auch öffentlicher Raum ist. Zudem wird das, was üblicherweise mit „öffentlichem Raum“ bezeichnet wird (nämlich der urbane Raum) – zunehmend von neo-liberalen Interessen privater Einflussnahme geleitet.

Stadtraum.Kunst, Heinrich Schütz (Hrsg.), 2001.

Vgl. Claudia Büttner, Kunst Pro jekte Riem, Konzeption, Projektierung, Kommunikation, Grundkonzept für 7 Jahre, 30.10.1998.

Dies war auch der Rahmen, den wir für den Workshop von urbanmatters.pool im Sommersemester 2011 setzten. Kunst wird hierbei weder als Event zur Belebung oder als Zwischennutzung betrachtet noch zur Problemlösung, sondern als offenes Feld, das einerseits direkt auf aktuelle Fragestellungen in Aspern Bezug nimmt, sich andererseits aber von jeglichen konkreten Erwartungshaltungen freispielt.

„Kunstprojekte_riem“ / Lernen von ...? Die Funktion, „Leben“ und Lebendigkeit zu planen, wurde der Kunst in hochdotierten Regenerationsprojekten in Großbritannien ebenso wie in Stadtentwicklungsgebieten in den Niederlanden oft gezielt überantwortet – so auch in der Messestadt München-Riem, einem in Größe und auch gewissen Rahmenbedingungen mit Aspern-Seestadt vergleichbaren Großvorhaben. In der Messestadt wurde die Beteiligung von Kunst schon lange vor Beginn der Bautätigkeit vorbereitet und eingeplant. Eine umfassende Studie {09}, die eine aktuelle Auslotung von Kunst im öffentlichen Raum vornahm, diente als Grundlage für die KuratorInnensuche. Das Konzept „Kunst Projekte Riem“ (in weiterer Folge benannt als „kunstprojekte_riem“) von Claudia Büttner {10} wurde zur Realisierung ausgewählt und galt international als Vorzeigebeispiel aktuellen Kunstdiskurses. Die Projekte begannen in der Leere des ehemaligen

Planning Unplanned – Wo ist die Kunst?

Flughafenareals und fokussierten vor allem die Möglichkeit, über künstlerisches Handeln soziale Prozesse und Kommunikation in Gang zu setzen. Dazu gab es von der Kuratorin auch Begleitinstrumentarien wie die „Riemer Runde“, eine regelmäßige Gesprächsrunde, die dafür sorgte, dass die Kunstprojekte direkt bei und mit den BewohnerInnen verankert wurden. „kunstprojekte_riem“ begleitete den Realisierungsprozess von 1999 bis 2003 als dezidiertes Bekenntnis der Stadt München, neue Wege bei der Involvierung von Kunst im Kontext von Stadtentwicklung zu beschreiten. Auch die Finanzierung erfolgte nach einem neuen Modell: 2 % der Bauausgaben, die für Kunst am Bau gewidmet waren, wurden gesplittet in 1 % Kunst am Bau sowie 1 % Kunst im öffentlichen Raum, sodass die Projekte losgelöst von der Architektur (die es noch kaum gab) realisiert werden konnten. Dies war zwar einerseits eine Halbierung des Budgets, gleichzeitig wuchs das Budget jedoch stetig durch die hohen Kosten für die Landschaftsplanung. {11} „kunstprojekte_riem“ waren hauptsächlich temporär bzw. prozessorientiert angelegt. An einem Ort, den es in seiner zukünftigen Ausprägung noch nicht wirklich gab, machte es wenig Sinn, permanente Kunstprojekte zu installieren. Dies diente später der Kulturabteilung der Stadt München als (vorgeschobenes) Argument, „kunstprojekte_riem“ vorzeitig zu beenden und die Kunst von nun an wieder selbst in die Hand zu nehmen. Florian Matzner realisierte im Anschluss für die BUGA (Bundesgartenschau 2005) ein Projekt mit Studierenden, und nun werden auf Beschluss des Kulturausschusses von 2009 Großskulpturen installiert. Als erstes Projekt dieser neuen Phase wird Knikkebeinen Ravens von Panamarenko installiert werden. Kunst ist nun also wieder sehr sichtbar und erkennbar als jene Art von Kunst, von der die verantwortlichen PolitikerInnen annehmen, dass sie „der Bevölkerung“ zumutbar sei und von dieser „verstanden“ werde.

Wo ist die Kunst heute? Kunst geht wieder zurück in die Kunstinstitutionen, in der Hoffnung auf Unabhängigkeit. Zu vollgestellt ist der öffentlich-urbane Raum und zu mühsam die Gratwanderung zwischen Vereinnahmung und „Unabhängigkeit“, zwischen Eventisierung und Widerständigkeit. Die „Stadt als (zunehmend privatisiertes) Unternehmen“ hat den öffentlichen Raum zum Konsum freigegeben. Somit ist es zunehmend schwierig geworden, selbst engagierte und kritische künstlerische Projekte als solche zwischen der Kommerzialiserung und Eventisierung wahrzunehmen. Kunst möchte wieder als un-notwendiges Extra der Gesellschaft wahrgenommen werden, um ihre Aufgabe aus der Außenseiterposition (nicht) „erfüllen“ zu können. Die Konzeption der Urban Practitioners setzt genau hier an – um Kunst von der Erwartungshaltung, konkrete Aufgaben zu erfüllen, freizustellen. In der Aspern-Seestadt wurde Kunst als Programm von der Politik nicht eingeplant. Dies kann verschiedene Gründe haben: Es gab und gibt niemanden, der sie finanzieren will. Sie wird nicht als notwendig erachtet. Oder: Die Problematik, Kunst als Standortaufwertung für neue Stadtentwicklungsgebiete zu vereinnahmen, wurde erkannt, aber es gab keine Ideen, wie Kunst bzw. künstlerische Strategien in einer neuen Rolle – vor allem in der momentanen schwierigen ökonomischen Lage – involviert werden könnten. Mittlerweile hat aber die Eigeninitiative von verschiedenen KünstlerInnen und Gruppierungen, sich mit der Situation in Aspern-Seestadt zu befassen, weiter zugenommen. Der Widerstand, den der Ort selbst seiner Planbar-

Barbara Holub

Dieses wurde dann jedoch durch gewisse Raffinesse wieder gekürzt, indem z. B. der See aus den als Berechnungsgrundlage dienenden Kosten herausgerechnet wurde.

lich. Das Saarland ist die einzige Region der ehemaligen BRD, deren Ausmaß von Schrumpfung mit dem der schrumpfenden Regionen der ehemaligen DDR vergleichbar ist. Längerfristige Perspektiven sind gefragt. Die seit Jahren beharrliche Bearbeitung des Feldes Völklingen durch die Studierenden von Georg Winter kann selbstverständlich nicht die komplexe Problematik einer schrumpfenden Region lösen. Aber durch ihre Präsenz und ihr aktives Agieren im Stadtraum setzen sie ein Zeichen für „Leben“, für „Leben“ trotz scheinbarer Ausweglosigkeit.

→ Situation 2 // Aspern-Seestadt, Wien (A) Wien wächst. Für das Jahr 2040 sind (wieder) 2 Millionen EinwohnerInnen prognostiziert. Aspern-Seestadt ist die größte zukünftige Stadtentwicklung in Wien und der Region für die nächsten zwanzig bis dreißig Jahre. 20.000 Menschen sollen hier wohnen, und 20.000 Menschen sollen hier arbeiten. Eine neue „Stadt zwischen Wien und Bratislava“ soll entstehen, als Wiederbelebung des Centrope-Gedankens, und um Wien tatsächlich als internationale Stadt zwischen „Ost“ und „West“ zu positionieren. Den „weißen Flecken“ einer ungewissen Zukunft in Völklingen stehen die „weißen Flecken“ der (noch) nicht eingetretenen Erwartungen in WienAspern gegenüber. Die weißen Flecken begegnen sich nach der Hoch-Zeit und vor der erwarteten und erhofften Hoch-Zeit. Beide tragen aus unterschiedlichen Perspektiven das Potenzial in sich, komplexer über Zukunft nachzudenken und bestehende Wertsetzungen in Bezug auf das Gemeinwohl zu überdenken.

Student projects in Völklingen and the World Cultural Heritage Site at the Völklingen Ironworks, 2011

keit entgegensetzt, wird von den KünstlerInnen unkuratiert und unbeauftragt adressiert – und zeigt somit umso mehr die Notwendigkeit der Existenz von Orten in einer Übergangssituation, die das Unfertige, Offene noch vor sich tragen. Die Wien 3420 Aspern Development AG unterstützt diese Einzelinitiativen und ergänzt diese nun durch eine „Zwischennutzung“ vor allem im Bereich der ehemaligen Landebahn, mit deren Programmierung sie die Gruppe Content Associates vorerst für ein Jahr beauftragte. {12} Aspern-Seestadt als „test site“ für Urban Practitioners wurde im Sommersemester 2011 auch in der Lehre erprobt: Eine Kooperation der HBKsaar, Saarbrücken / Klasse für Bildhauerei und Public Art / Georg Winter und dem Institut für Kunst und Gestaltung 1, TU Wien war dem Thema „Planning Unplanned“ gewidmet und untersuchte vor Ort, was Kunst und Architektur gemeinsam können.

Schrumpfen und Wachsen Völklingen (D) < > Aspern-Seestadt (A) In zwei jeweils einwöchigen Workshops wurden sehr unterschiedliche Situationen bearbeitet: das Schrumpfen in Völklingen und das Wachsen in Wien-Aspern. 12

Content Associates veranstalteten und koordinierten verschiedene Events, für die eine Grundinfrastruktur mit Containern eingerichtet wurde. Diese Events waren eine vielfältige Sammlung verschiedenster Formate von „urban gardening“ bis zu diversen Workshops von Kunstakademien und Universitäten. Das Programm wird 2012 fortgesetzt werden.

→ Situation 1 // Völklingen, Saarland (D) In der Handwerkergasse, direkt im Weltkulturerbe der Völklinger Hütte, arbeiten die Kunststudierenden der Klasse für Bildhauerei / Georg Winter / HBKsaar. In direkter Nachbarschaft wohnen sie dem Transformations prozess der seit 1986 geschlossenen Hütte zur rostigen „Ruine“ bei. Völklingens EinwohnerInnenzahl sinkt seit Schließung der Hütte kontinuier-

Planning Unplanned – Wo ist die Kunst?

Martí Peran fordert in Post-it City. Occasional Urbanities wieder Informalität in der Planung und Raum für Konflikte, die der Homogenisierung und Monotonie des permanent überwachten Lebens entgegenwirken. {13} In diesem Sinne lag der Fokus der jeweils einwöchigen Workshops in Völklingen und Aspern auf dem „Abseitigen“, um dem im Plan Vergessenen, Unerwünschten oder Unbedachten Raum zu geben. Der Workshop auf dem Gelände der zukünftigen Aspern-Seestadt sollte nicht ein weiteres kurzfristiges Event sein, sondern in eine längerfristige Perspektive eingebettet werden. Dafür wurde als realer Referenzpunkt ein Baufeld des Masterplans im Nordosten des Geländes gewählt, welches jedoch von einem Biobauern als Agrarfeld genutzt war. Diese Ausgangsbedingung zwang die Studierenden, dieses Baufeld als reinen Referenz- und Projektionsraum zu betrachten und ihre Projekte an „Ersatz-Orten“ im Gelände der zukünftigen Aspern-Seestadt anzusiedeln. Das „Freie Feld“ war also sowohl Anlass zu Produktion als auch übergeordnetes Denkfeld.

Consortium Freies Feld (CFF) _die Konstruktion einer Situation „Raumproduktion“ und „Recht auf Stadt“ {14} werden heute bereits in Marketingbroschüren als Schlagwörter vereinnahmt, ohne dass diese wesentlichen Begriffe des kritischen Urbanismusdiskurses und die Handlungsräume, die sie eröffnen, von InvestorInnen und DeveloperInnen tatsächlich verstanden wurden (und deshalb schon gar nicht weiterreichend in der Realität der Planungspraxis wirksam werden konnten). Umso wichtiger ist es also, bevor diese Begriffe als leere Worthülsen

Barbara Holub

Siehe Martí Peran, in: Post-it City. Occasional Urbanities, S. 235–237.

Alle einschlägige Theorieproduktion von und zu Henri Lefebvre hatte ebensowenig Einfluss auf die konkrete Planungspraxis wie die SituationistInnen und deren Praktiken oder auch Michel de Certeaus Differenzierung von „Taktik“ und „Strategie“.

Siehe auch die aktuelle Debatte um Commons, u. a. Silke Helfrich (Hrsg.): Fülle Organisieren. Gemeingüter jenseits von Markt und Staat, transcript Verlag (2012).

Regula Lüscher: „Stadt ist Veränderung“, Vortrag an der TU Wien, 13. Dezember 2010.

Siehe Martí Peran: Constructed Situations as Practices for Dissent, S. 236.

Jan Verwoert: „Lying freely to the public“, in: open 2008, No. 14, S. 67.

endgültig abgelegt werden, einen konkreten Ort zu finden, wo der „Beweis“ einer anderen Zugangsweise getätigt werden kann. Dies ist der Hintergrund des Freien Feldes.

FROM CRITICAL SPATIAL PRACTICE TO SITE-WRITING {01}

Das Consortium Freies Feld stellt ein Baufeld in Aspern-Seestadt von InvestorInnenerwartungen frei, um aktuelle Anforderungen an den öffentlichen, gemeinschaftlichen Raum – als Labor zur Erprobung neuer Formen geteilter Verantwortung {15} – in der Praxis zu erforschen. Das CFF setzt sich aus InvestorInnen, KünstlerInnen, UrbanistInnen und anderen ExpertInnen zusammen. Bei dem CFF handelt es sich um keine „Zwischennutzung“, sondern um eine langfristige Strategie. Das CFF befasst sich fast aus dem off, dem Abseits, mit jenen Fragen, die der Plan nicht beinhaltet: Es schafft eine Art Parallelstruktur, die sich nicht direkt mit der Planung befasst, die auch nicht direkt nutzbar gemacht werden kann, aber Raum gibt für das Überflüssige, für das, was ansonsten keinen Platz hat. Diese Bearbeitung, die eine eigene Form von Beharrlichkeit an den Tag legt, kann mittelfristig eine Auswirkung auf die anderen Gebiete der zukünftigen Seestadt entwickeln. Wie lange kann ein Freies Feld tatsächlich wider den Wertschöpfungsdruck agieren? Welche andere Form von Qualitäten und Werten abgesehen von direkt ökonomisch verwertbaren kann das CFF entwickeln? Das CFF widersetzt sich grundlegend der Idee eines zwischengenutzten Event-Space. Die sogenannte Zwischennutzung entwickelt mittlerweile ambivalente Tendenzen: Als gezielt eingesetztes Standortmarketing verliert sie ihren widerständigen Charakter und trägt zur Aufwertung bei, oder sie mutiert zur Permanentnutzung, wenn „der Investorendruck gering ist“, wie die Berliner Stadtbaudirektorin Regula Lüscher in Bezug auf das ehemalige Flughafengebiet Berlin Tempelhof anmerkte. {16} Das CFF beschreitet neues Terrain, das sich jenseits von Kategorien wie Zwischennutzung oder Permanentnutzung bewegt. Auf dem leeren Feld ist scheinbar alles möglich. Das Freihalten von Flächen für ungeplante und unplanbare Entwicklungen bei gleichzeitiger Definierung eines bestimmten Rahmens ist auch nur scheinbar ein Paradoxon: Das Consortium Freies Feld konstruiert eine Situation als „Praxis für Widerspruch, Ambiguität und Dissens“ {17}. Es ist eine künstlerische Strategie, wie man „planning unplanned“ explorieren kann, und gleichzeitig Praxis dafür, wie über „Dissens“ hinaus Fiktionen für Stadtentwicklung und ein lebendiges urbanes Leben entwickelt werden können. Über „Planning Unplanned“ und das Consortium Freies Feld wird die Frage „Wo ist die Kunst?“ neu gestellt, und zwar in Bezug auf Handlungsfelder im Rahmen des konkreten lokalen Kontextes. In seinem Text „Lying freely to the public“ hält der Kunsttheoretiker Jan Verwoert ein Plädoyer für den „anonymen Adressaten“, um der Rechtfertigungsmaschinerie zu entkommen, der Kunst und künstlerische Produktion unterworfen ist. {18} Das CFF bezieht Position für die Kunst als Gemeingut gesellschaftlichen Lebens. In dieser Positionierung befreit sich Kunst vom Legitimationsdruck über Besuchszahlen. Für die Programmierung des CFF gibt es keine Zielgruppenanalyse, auf die eine Marketingstrategie zugeschnitten wird. Ebenso wenig gibt es konkrete oder gewünschte KonsumentInnen. Aber da nicht nur die Kunstproduktion (und vor allem deren Finanzierung), sondern unser „ganzes Leben“ der Rechtfertigungsmaschinerie unterworfen ist, liegt die Chance des Consortiums Freies Feld darin, nicht nur das Kunstsystem, sondern auch unsere Gesellschaft, ausgehend von den Rändern, zu befragen.

[ Jane Rendell ]

Planning Unplanned – Wo ist die Kunst?, Barbara Holub

Much of the material in this presentation is taken from Jane Rendell, Art and Architecture: A Place Between, London: I. B. Tauris, 2006, and Jane Rendell, Site-Writing: The Architecture of Art Criticism, London: I. B. Tauris, 2010.

Suzanne Lacy (ed.), Mapping the Terrain: New Genre Public Art, Seattle: Bay Press, 1995.

This paper approaches the issue of the unplanned, first by discussing the concept of critical spatial practice and different approaches this might take, and then moving to consider criticism itself as a way of moving between planned and unplanned as a form of critical spatial practice in its own right. My initial training is in architectural design, and my interest in spatial constructions has influenced the work that I have gone on to do, first as a feminist architectural historian, and more recently as an art critic and architectural writer. My first introduction to art practice was in 1996 when I was invited to Chelsea College of Art and Design in London to teach on and later direct their MA in the Theory and Practice of Public Art and Design. I quickly became fascinated by what seemed a highly unstable form of practice, which insisted on locating itself in ‘a place between’ fine art and spatial design. Two years later when I was invited to guest edit a special issue of The Public Art Journal, I had become interested in examining the overlapping concerns of those artists engaged in various forms of ‘spatial practice’ and the writings of cultural geographers interested in ‘spatial theory’. My book Art and Architecture: A Place Between from 2006 attempts to trace the multiple dynamics of my investigation into public art located at a three-way intersection, between art and architecture, public and private, and theory and practice. I would like to start by addressing the fine art/architectural design relation, since it was my contact with public art that changed my understanding of this relationship. Art and architecture are frequently differentiated in terms of their relationship to ‘function’. Unlike architecture, art may not be functional in traditional terms, for example giving shelter when it rains or designing a room in which to perform open-heart surgery, but we could say that art is functional in providing certain kinds of tools for self-reflection, critical thinking and social change. Art offers a place and occasion for new kinds of relationship ‘to function’ between people. When art is located outside the gallery, the parameters that define it are called into question and all sorts of new possibilities are opened up. Art has to engage with the kinds of restraints and controls to which only design is usually subject. In many public projects, art is expected to take on ‘functions’ in the way that architecture does, for example to alleviate social problems, comply with health and safety requirements, or be accessible to diverse audiences and groups of users. But in other sites and situations art can adopt critical functions and works can be positioned in ways that make it possible to question the terms of engagement of the projects themselves. In 1995 a couple of key publications appeared. Artist Suzanne Lacy coined the term ‘new genre public art’ to describe what she saw as a new trajectory where public art could include conceptual and critical work, but with a focus on collaboration, interaction, process and context. {02} Also published in 1995, Nina Felshin’s edited collection But is it Art? The Spirit of Art as Activism pointed to the potential of socially engaged public art practice as a tool for political critique, while writer Tom Finkelpearl described

From Critical Spatial Practice to Site-Writing, Jane Rendell

03 Nina Felshin (ed.), But is it Art? The Spirit of Art as Activism, Seattle: Bay Press, 1995) and Tom Finkelpearl, Dialogues in Public Art, Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2000. 04

David Harding (ed.), Decadent: Public Art—Contentious Term and Contested Practice, Glasgow: Glasgow School of Art, 1997.

Malcolm Miles, Art, Space and the City, London: Routledge, 1997.

Chris Burden, quoted in Suzi Gablik, The Reenchantment of Art, London: Thames and Hudson, 1991, pp. 79-80.

Raymond Geuss, The Idea of Critical Theory: Habermas and the Frankfurt School, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981, p. 2.

this period as a time in which artists, administrators and communities ‘reinvented the field of public art’. {03} And today we have a whole new generation of critics and curators—some of them have already come to speak to you—who are approaching the politics of art through curating as a practice. It is interesting to note that in the history of public art discourse, this moment has been eclipsed by more recent discussions around Nicholas Bourriaud’s notion of ‘relational aesthetics’, which while readily accepted by those from a conceptual background tends to occlude the concerns of art generated outside a gallery system, and the kind of ethical issues, around for example listening, that feminists such as Suzi Gablik have earlier brought to the fore. In the UK, there was a noticeable increase in the funding of public art projects through the 1990s, developing a sophistication in public art practice, and drawing out a discussion where the category of ‘public art’ itself came to be considered a problematic or ‘contested’ practice. {04} In Art, Space and the City, cultural theorist Malcolm Miles described two pitfalls for public art, namely its use as wallpaper to cover over social conflict and as a monument to promote the aspirations of corporate sponsors. {05} Many so-called ‘fine’ artists have been particularly scathing about public art, for example, Chris Burden remarked: ‘I just make art. Public art is something else, I’m not sure it’s art. I think it’s about a social agenda.’ {06} By linking ‘social’ to an ‘agenda’, public art gets associated with a deterministic approach. Perhaps because of this narrowed perception, but also because of the richness of the work produced by the growing number of conceptual artists working outside the gallery and developing modes of institutional critique, across sites, both public and private, terms such as site-specific or contextual art started to be used instead. For my part in Art and Architecture, in order to draw attention to the importance of the spatial and the critical in public art practice and to consider how art and architecture might be related as well as theory and practice, I suggested that we might need a new term, ‘critical spatial practice’. So I am going to say a few words about what I mean by this term. Starting with the critical. Critical theory is a phrase that refers to the work of a group of theorists and philosophers called the Frankfurt School operating in the early twentieth century, whose writings are connected by an interest in the ideas of the philosopher G. W. F. Hegel, the political economist Karl Marx, and the psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud. Critical theory could be characterized as a rethinking or development of Marxist ideas in relation to the shifts in society, culture and economy that took place in the early decades of the twentieth century. As Raymond Guess writes in The Idea of Critical Theory, {07} critical theories are forms of knowledge which differ from theories in the natural sciences because they are ‘reflective’ rather than ‘objectifying’—in other words they take into account their own procedures and methods. Critical theories aim neither to prove a hypothesis nor prescribe a particular method ology or solution to a problem; instead, in a myriad of differing ways, critical theorists offer self-reflective modes of thought that seek to change the world. Although the term critical theory can be used as a rather technical term to describe a particular kind of philosophy emerging out of a specific moment of the Frankfurt School, I argue that it is also possible to extend the term ‘critical theory’ to include the work of all those whose thinking is self-critical and desirous of social change, who do not only reflect on existing conditions but

From Critical Spatial Practice to Site-Writing

also imagine something different—to transform rather than describe. {08} So if this explains what I mean by the term critical in ‘critical spatial practice’, what of the spatial? In the mid-to-late 1990s a number of academic disciplines—geography, anthropology, cultural studies, history, art and architectural theory, to name but a few—were drawn into debates on ‘the city’. Such discussions on the urban condition produced an interdisciplinary terrain of ‘spatial theory’ that has reformulated the ways in which space is understood and practiced. Two figures are key: philosopher Henri Lefebvre and anthropologist Michel de Certeau. Lefebvre put forward a trialectical model where space is produced through three interrelated modes: spatial practice which can be understood in terms of perception and representations of space in terms of conception. {09} Lefebvre also makes a careful distinction between representations of space which he sees as operations which involve a systematized set of abstract and dominant codes, and spaces of representation where resistance, invention and imagination flourish. And in de Certeau’s discussion of spatial practices, he uses the terms strategies for those practices, which seek to create places that conform to abstract models; and tactics for those that do not obey the laws of places. {10} For my Art and Architecture book these theoretical concepts formed the guiding principles for the selection of works; I went in search of artworks and architectural designs where the spaces of resistance, invention and imagination flourished and which operated tactically. It was the writings of another key spatial thinker, postmodern geographer Edward Soja, that suggested the three part structure of my book. {11} His examination of the interrelation between the conceptual categories of space, time and social being suggested three sections, each of which emphasized a different aspect of a place between: the spatial, the temporal and the social. I am now going to draw out some of the key forms of critical spatial practice I explore in the book, focusing on art projects. So in Section 1: ‘Between Here and There’, the focus is on the spatial, and through three chapters I investigate three particular spatial issues. In the first, I consider the relationship between site and non-site, see here the work of artist Robert Smithson, who first used the terms site and non-site to describe a work or site located outside the gallery and how it is documented in the gallery or non-site. {12} Commenting on this first non-site, he states: I was sort of interested in the dialogue between the indoor and the outdoor … I developed a method or a dialectic that involved what I call site and non-site … so I decided that I would set limits in terms of this dialogue … {13} The second spatial theme I explore is Rosalind Krauss’s notion of an ‘expanded field’, first introduced in 1979 to describe the work of artists producing interventions into the landscape, {14} and where she expanded the term sculpture in relation to architecture and landscape. I aimed to bring this up to date by examining the curation of shows across large sites which engaged debates across the disciplines of art, design and architecture. For example, In the Midst of Things, where curators Nigel Prince and Gavin Wade invited 27 artists to critique existing social models and offer new propositions at Bourneville, a village and factory complex built in the late-nineteenth century as a paternalist development conceived by an enlightened capitalist, George Cadbury, a chocolate manufacturer who wanted to create a pleasant

Jane Rendell

For a detailed discussion of the various possibilities opened up by critical theory for thinking the relationship between theory and practice, see Jane Rendell, ‘Between two: theory and practice’, in Jonathan Hill (ed.), Opposites Attract: Research by Design, Special Issue of Journal of Architecture (Summer) vol. 8, no. 2 (2003), pp. 221–38.

See Henri Lefebvre, The Production of Space, Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1991.

Michael de Certeau, The Practice of Everyday Life, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988, p. 29.

Edward Soja, Thirdspace: Expand ing the Geographical Imagination. Oxford: Blackwell, 1996; and Edward Soja, Postmodern Geographies: The Reassertion of Space in Social Theory, London: Verso, 1989.

Boettger, Earthworks, pp. 55–8. See Robert Smithson, ‘Towards the development of an air terminal site’ (1967), in Flam, Robert Smithson, p. 291.

‘Earth’ (1969) symposium at White Museum, Cornell University, in Flam, Robert Smithson, p. 178.

Krauss, ‘Sculpture in the Expanded Field’. This essay was originally published in October 8, Spring 1979.

See Nigel Prince and Gavin Wade (eds.), In the Midst of Things, London: August Media, 2000. See also Gavin Wade (ed.), Curating in the 21st Century, Walsall: New Art Gallery/University of Wolverhampton, 2000.

16 I borrow and develop the term ‘expanded’ from Rosalind Krauss, ‘Sculpture in the Expanded Field’, in Hal Foster (ed.) Postmodern Culture, London: Pluto Press, 1985, pp. 31–42. This essay was originally published in October 8 (Spring 1979). 17

Michael Landy, ‘Breakdown’ (2001), C&A Store at Marble Arch, 499–523 Oxford Street, London, W1. See Gerrie van Noord (ed.), Off Limits, 40 Artangel Projects, London: Artangel, 2002, pp. 162–7; and Michael Landy, Breakdown, London: Artangel, 2001.

See Gerrie van Noord (ed.), Off Limits, 40 Artangel Projects, London: Artangel, 2002, pp. 190-195, and Jeremy Deller, The Battle of Orgreave, London: Artangel, 2002. See also Dave Beech, review of Jeremy Deller, ‘The Battle of Orgreave’, Art Monthly (July–August 2001), pp. 38–39, and Rendell, Art and Architecture, pp. 61–63.

See Rut Blees Luxemburg, London—A Modern Project, London: Black Dog Publishing, 1997.

environment for his workers both outside and in the buildings themselves. {15} Third, I explore the possibility, following de Certeau’s notion of space as a practiced place, for creative interventions to transform places into spaces of social critique. Here I followed the work of commissioners—namely New York’s Public Art Fund and Art Angel of London. {16} I examine, for example, ‘Breakdown’ (2001), where in a vacant C&A store at the western end of London’s busiest shopping thoroughfare, Oxford Street, artist Michael Landy decided to divest himself of all his possessions, from a sheepskin jacket inherited from his father to a drawing given as a gift by artist friend Tracey Emin: 7,010 objects in 15 days. {17} And Jeremy Deller’s The Battle of Orgreave (June 17, 2001) also commissioned by Art Angel, which was a restaging of one of the most violent confrontations of the miners’ strike that took place on June 18, 1984 in the town of Orgreave outside Sheffield in the United Kingdom. {18} In Section 2: Between Now and Then, I highlight the importance of the temporal dimension of ‘a place between’, specifically, the relation of past and present in allegorical, montage and dialectical constructions and the time of viewing and experiencing art and architecture. In Chapter 1 (Ruin as Allegory) I suggest that projects that focus on aspects of ruin, disintegration and transience not only inspire feelings of melancholic contemplation in the viewer, but also provide experiences where critical transformation can occur through quiet but active thought. ‘Caliban Towers I and II’ (1997) is from a series by artist-photographer Rut Blees Luxemburg entitled London—A Modern Project. {19} * The photograph shows two high-rise buildings aspiring to touch the skies. Shot at night with a long exposure, the architecture takes on a strange luminescence. * For a short period in 1998, as part of a public art project, the image was installed under a railway bridge in east London, a mile or so down the road from the very housing projects depicted in the image, and * where on a sunny Sunday in July, while ‘Caliban Towers I and II’ were resident in south Hoxton, a block of flats just like them was demolished, dust in nine seconds, to make way for regeneration. In Chapter 2 (Insertion as Montage) I examine the principle of montage through contemporary works where new insertions into sites produce juxtapositions which displace dominant meanings and interrupt particular contexts to create visual, audio and tactile environments in which the experience may initially include shock, but over time starts to engage with the more subtle ambiguities usually associated with allegory. For ‘New Holland’ (1997), by positioning a piece of the local vernacular, a shed for factory-farming turkeys that is throbbing with techno sounds, at a rakish angle next to a Henry Moore sculpture and Norman Foster’s gallery for fine art for East International at the Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts, Norwich, England, artists Cornford & Cross produced a sculpture that holds in tension everyday materials and monumental structures. And in Chapter 3 (The What-has-been and the Now) the focus is on history and on the position of the dialectical image as a threshold between past, present and future. I look at a number of artworks that insert new fragments into existing contexts, but here the act reclaims or unearths certain aspects of history lying buried in the present. Pointing to what has been displaced and marginalized as a way of critiquing contemporary culture, artist Janet Hodgson chose to inscribe archaeologists’ drawings of rubbish pits into the York stone slabs set as a landscaped element in the new shopping complex designed by Chapman Taylor and built by Land Securities in Whitefriars Canterbury, England. Hodgson titled her work ‘The Pits’, so

From Critical Spatial Practice to Site-Writing

marking Whitefriars with information the site already contained about its own lost past and buried topography, and read as a colloquialism, itself a kind of language often categorized as rubbish, the suggestion is that the commodities around us might be thought of as rubbish. This is a work which expresses a key aspect of public art, the need to operate somewhat ambiguously, offering a number of interpretations, which rather than tell us what to think, ask us to question the ways in which we assign value to matter. Finally, in Section 3: Between One and Another, I shift emphasis to the social aspect and examine the spatial construction of subjectivity in feminist and psychoanalytical theory, investigating the relationships people create in the production and occupation of art and architecture. Here the ‘work’ is considered less as a set of ‘things’ or ‘objects’ and more as a series of exchanges that take place between people—subjects. I focus on three different approach to creative exchange: processes of collaboration in chapter 1, where I discuss the urban and architectural projects of art-architecture collaboration muf; social sculpture in chapter 2, where I look at projects like ‘Park Products’ (2004) by public works (artist Katrin Böhm and architect Andreas Lang); and finally, in chapter 3, where I explore the role of walking in the work of environmental artists Platform. With respect to architecture and urban planning, there is a new group of practitioners—public works, are one, atelier d’architecture autogérée—who base their work on the ‘relational’ and consider ‘design’ as a form of making objects that facilitate new, politicized subjects, and curating as ‘taking care’ of spaces for human relations. What I sought to do in Art and Architecture was to consider different approaches to critical spatial practice. My interest was in the relationship between art, architecture and theory, but what I learnt from researching and writing the book was that my position with regard to the work emerged in response to my direct experience of it. Following this, I became more intrigued by the process of criticism itself, as a form of critical spatial practice, a writing practice which remakes works in the form of writing; which can write a site, rather than write about a site; and which can also write the relation between sites. The recent interest in ‘site-specific’ art has developed an understanding of site beyond indicating the physical location of a work, but instead suggested the relation of site to performance and ethnography. In One Place after Another, Miwon Kwon points to Homi Bhabha’s concept of ‘relational specificity’. Akin to James Clifford’s notion of site as a mobile place, located between fixed points, Bhabha’s concept suggests an understanding of site that is specific but also relational. {20} Perhaps relational specificity provides a useful way of thinking about the relations between sites, off-sites, and non-sites: their particular qualities and circuits of connection. I am interested in how the interpretative act of art criticism can itself engage with those changing sites and positions we occupy as critics materially, conceptually, emotionally and ideologically. {21} Art historian and critic Claire Bishop has suggested that it is the ‘degree of proximity between model subject and literal viewer’, which may ‘provide a criterion of aesthetic judgement for installation art’. {22} Bishop does not discuss the critic as a precise category of viewing subject. I suggest, however, that with his/her responsibility to ‘interpret’ and ‘perform’ the work for another audience, the critic occupies a discrete position as mediator between the artwork and the audience. For my part, I argue that the situatedness of the critic plays a key role in determining the performance of his/her interpretative role. Critics from

Jane Rendell

James Clifford, ‘An ethnographer in the field’, interview by Alex Coles, in Alex Coles (ed.), Site Specificity: The Ethnographic Turn, London: Black Dog Publishing, 2000, pp. 52–73.

See Jane Flax, Thinking Fragments: Psychoanalysis, Feminism and Post modernism in the Contemporary West, Berkeley, Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1991, p. 232; Donna Haraway. ‘Situated Knowledges: the Science Question in Feminism and the Privilege of Partial Knowledge’, Femi nist Studies, vol. 14, no. 3 (Fall 1988), pp. 575–603, especially pp. 583–588, and Elspeth Probyn, ‘Travels in the Postmodern: Making Sense of the Local’ in Linda Nicholson (ed.), Feminism/ Postmodernism, London: Routledge, 1990, pp. 176–89, p. 178. See also Rosi Braidotti, Nomadic Subjects, New York: Columbia University Press, 1994, and bell hooks, Yearnings: Race, Gender, and Cultural Politics, London: Turnaround Press, 1989.

22 Claire Bishop, Installation Art: A Critical History, London: Tate Publishing, 2005, p. 13, p. 131 and p. 133.

feminist and performance studies have also expressed an interest in the performative qualities of criticism. Amelia Jones and Andrew Stephenson, for example, take issue with the tradition that the interpreter must be neutral or disinterested in the objects, which s/he judges, and posit instead, with reference to spatial mobility, that the process of viewing and interpreting involves ‘entanglement in intersubjective spaces of desire, projection and identification’: Interpretation is, we would argue, a kind of performance of the object … Interpretation, like the production of works of art, is a mode of communication. Meaning is a process of engagement and never dwells in any one place. {23}

Amelia Jones and Andrew Stephenson, ‘Introduction’, Amelia Jones and Andrew Stephenson (eds.), Performing the Body/Performing the Text, London: Routledge, 1999, pp. 1–10, p. 8

24 See Jane Rendell, Art and Architecture: A Place Between, London: I. B. Tauris, 2006. 25

For another account of the conceptual framework that underpins my practice of ‘site-writing’, see Jane Rendell, ‘Architecture-Writing’ in Jane Rendell (ed.), Critical Architecture, special issue of The Journal of Architecture vol. 10, no. 3 (June 2005), pp. 255–264.

The following text is based on Jane Rendell, ‘Doing it, (Un)Doing it, (Over)Doing it Yourself: Rhetorics of Architectural Abuse’ in Jonathan Hill (ed.), Occupying Architecture, London: Routledge, 1998, pp. 229–246 but radically shortened and reworked. See also another alternative version: Jane Rendell, ‘(Un)doing it Yourself: Rhetorics of Architectural Abuse’, The Journal of Architecture vol. 4 (Spring 1999), pp. 101–110.

It was through the process of writing Art and Architecture, writing about critical spatial practice, that I came to realize that the changing sites I occupied in relation to art, architecture and theory—physical as well as ideological, private as well as public—did more than inform my critical attitude, but rather produced it. {24} I concluded by arguing that criticism is itself a form of critical spatial practice. So in my new book Site-Writing: The Architecture of Art Criticism the focus of the in-between shifts from between art and architecture, to the sites between critic and work, essay and reader. Site-Writing explores the position of the critic, not only in relation to art objects, architectural spaces and theoretical ideas, but also to the site of writing itself. {25} My suggestion is that this kind of criticism, in operating as a mode of practice in its own right, questions the terms of reference that relate the critic to the artwork positioned ‘under’ critique; instead I use different genres of writing—fiction, prose, autobiography—to construct as well as trace the sites between critic, artwork and reader, and as ways of altering relation and position. I also combine different interpretative and writing modes, for example using the analytic to outline the structure of my response, and memories—sometimes real, sometimes fictional—to create the detail. In other words, this involves a movement between the planned and unplanned in critical terms. So I am going to end by reading two pieces from my Site-Writing book to explore this dimension between the controlled and the uncontrolled in critical writing and how this tension can be explored using spatial devices. First I will read from ‘Undoing Architecture’, a three-voiced text, which explores possible positions in between the planned and the non-planned in architecture, specifically between design and occupation.

Undoing architecture When Jonathan Hill asked me to contribute a chapter about DIY for a book he was editing called Occupying Architecture, at first I declined. Then, at the suggestion of a friend, Iain Borden, I decided to write about a place in which I had previously lived. My coinhabitant of that house had been making our living space through an unusual method of DIY, much of which involved the removal, rather than the addition, of building elements, as well as the use of objects for non-designed purposes. {26} This was the first piece of writing where I juxtaposed my own voice with those of various critical theorists, and where I referred to my life as the subject

From Critical Spatial Practice to Site-Writing

matter for theoretical reflection. This incorporation of the personal into the critical had different kinds of effects depending on the reader. Other academics and artist friends loved the piece because I was so ‘present’ in the work. But my retelling of events disturbed two important people in my personal life. My mother was upset by my description of this house, as ‘more like home to me than any other’, and for my coinhabitant my text rendered his home unrecognizable. The responses I received made me aware that words do not mean the same thing for writer and reader and this raised many questions about storytelling. While the subject matter and subjective stance of a personal story may upset the objective tone of academic writing, writing for a theoretical context repositions events in ways that may be uncomfortable for those involved in the story. Writing about the DIY practices in a house I once lived in in order to question the authorial position of the architect and the permanence of architecture assumed by the profession involves recounting a story. Like the fiction writer who uses friends and family as the basis for characters, I use others in my writing, but unlike the fiction writer, who provides a disguise through character, my writing offers nowhere to hide. Adopting a narrative form in which they feature as subjects in order to make a critical point reveals there is more involved than simply telling a good story. So what do these others make of the subjects they become in my writing? As a writer, what ethical responsibility do I have to them? The question of how it is possible to recognize another is a problem at the heart of much feminist writing. {27} To negotiate a feminist understanding of relationships with respect to architecture is no easy task. The feminist poet Audré Lourde once stated that ‘the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house’. If so, then what other tools do we have at our disposal? {28} This essay draws on the words of French feminist philosophers Luce Irigaray and Hélène Cixous, who both suggest modes of relating that differ from the masculine, from an economy of appropriation, of the self-same. My own use of architecture is placed between the authority of the father, the male architect, on the one hand, who sets out the modernist principles of design still largely adhered to by the profession, and the voice of the mother, the female theoretician, on the other, who suggests alternative modes of producing space: through using and writing. The essay has a way with words, a particular patterning of speech, a feminine rhetoric that undoes architecture. This speaking subject speaks in threes. Her speech is tripled. 1 and 1 is three. 11 threes. I. Between Doing It and Undoing It Any Theory of the ‘Speaking’ Subject The architectural profession encourages us to think of architecture as something only architects do. As architects we remain true to this ideal, and ensure that we, and only we, do things our way. We can assume that any theory of the subject has always been appropriated by the ‘masculine’. When she submits to (such a) theory, woman fails to realise that she is renouncing the specificity of her own relationship to the imaginary. {29} I was taught how to do architecture, taught how to do it the right way. I was taught that architects do architecture all by themselves. They imagine

Jane Rendell

27 Benjamin, Shadow of the Other, p. 80.

28 Audré Lourde, ‘The Master’s Tools will never Dismantle the Master’s House’ [1979] in Jane Rendell, Barbara Penner and Iain Borden (eds.), Gender, Space, Architecture: an Interdisciplin ary Introduction, London: Routledge, 1999, pp. 53–55, p. 54. 29 Luce Irigaray, ‘Any Theory of the “Subject” has always been Appropriated by the “Masculine”’ [1974], Speculum of the Other Woman, translated by Gillian C. Gill, Ithaca, New York: Cornell University Press, 1985, pp. 133–146, p. 133.

architecture, and then, as if by magic, with minimal fuss, and certainly no mess, they make it, whole and perfect pieces of it, just like in their dreams. II. Between Use and Misuse Écriture Feminine Architects do architecture. Builders do architecture. Long after ‘completion’, users do architecture, they ‘do-it-themselves’. Architects do architecture with designs on the user—that the user will follow certain intended patterns of consumption. Consuming—the act of acquiring and incorporating goods— indicates distinct social identities. These distinctions can be created not only by buying more of the same or even different goods, but by playing with an existing ‘vocabulary’ of goods, inventing subtle variations, developing a ‘rhetoric’ of use. {30} One of the causes, but also the consequences, of social comparison through distinction, is desire. Desiring creatures transgress; they resist the logic of architecture as the other who completes the self. They undo architecture as architecture undoes them. Writing is working; being worked: questioning (in) the between (letting oneself be questioned) of same and of other without which nothing lives; undoing death’s work by willing the togetherness of one-another, infinitely charged with a ceaseless exchange of one with another—not knowing one another and beginning again only from what is most distant, from self, from other, from the other within. A course that multiplies transformations by the thousands. {31} One hot day in Moscow, I visited Mr. Melnikov’s house, a symphony of architectural geometry, and there, in the marital bedroom, in that safe haven of harmony, at the heart of their home, Mrs. Melnikov had made a mess. With complete disregard to her esteemed husband’s endeavors, she had gathered together all manner of ugliness, decorative trappings, ornaments and lace. Mrs. Melnikov’s Soviet bric-a-brac, or as the Russians call it poshnost, was architecture undone. {32}

See Pierre Bourdieu, Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste [1979], translated by Richard Nice, London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1984.

Hélène Cixous, ‘Sorties’ [1975], translated by Betsy Wing, The Newly Born Woman, Susan Sellers (ed.), The Hélène Cixous Reader, London: Routledge, 1994, pp. 37–44, p. 43.

For drawings and photographs, see, for example, Juhani Pallasmaa with Andrei Gozak, The Melnikov House, Moscow (1927–1929), translations by Catherine Cooke, London: Academy Editions, 1996.

Luce Irigaray, Elemental Passions [1982], translated by Joanne Collie and Judith Still, London: The Athlone Press, 1992, p. 47.

III. Between Home and Nomadism ‘Where and How to Dwell?’ Houses are by far the most expensive of commodities. The houses we buy and the way we choose to live in them allow us to distinguish ourselves from others. Our choices are limited by factors of all kinds, not least our desires. Nowhere do these desires resonate more spatially than in the place we call ‘home’. You grant me space, you grant me my space. But in so doing you have always taken me away from my expanding place. What you intend for me is the place which is appropriate for the need you have of me. What you reveal to me is the place where you have positioned me, so that I remain available for your needs. {33} On a leafy street in south London is an ordinary terraced house, which was my home for two years. Scattered all over London, all over the world, are other homes, houses where I have once lived. In some still standing, I return and revisit past lives and loves. Others have been destroyed, physically crushed in military coups, or erased from conscious memory only to be revisited in dreams. In all the places I have lived I recognize lost parts of myself, but this particular house means something very special to me. Its

From Critical Spatial Practice to Site-Writing

neglected and decaying fabric, its disparate and drifting occupants, offered me a way of living that had nothing to do with comfort, security, safety and permanence. Through its fragile structure this house physically embraced my need for transience, and perhaps this is what made it feel like home to me. IV. Between Profitability and Generosity The Gift The economy of the capitalist market is based on pricing mechanisms— specialization, efficiency, scarcity, the maximization of profit and utility— and on principles of homogeneity, rationalism and calculation. This masculine economy requires the strict delineation of property, from the ownership of one’s body to the fruits of one’s own labor. But how does woman escape this law of return? Can one speak of another spending? Really, there is no ‘free’ gift? You never give something for nothing. But all the difference lies in the why and how of the gift, in the values that the gesture of giving affirms, causes to circulate; in the type of profit the giver draws from the gift and the use to which he or she puts it. Why, how, is there this difference? When one gives, what does one give oneself? {34} The woman who owned the house I lived in refused rent. Although her home was large, five stories, she lived frugally off her pension in two first floor rooms. She occupied a world beyond the everyday, inhabited by spirits—‘the powers that be’. The powers were not adept in the material world; their decisions were unreasonable and random. Large pieces of furniture moved nightly; plumbing, electrics and general household maintenance followed erratic management systems. The ‘powers’ refused council money for repairs —this disturbed the karma of decay. Theirs was the rhetoric of generosity. V. Between Property and Reciprocity Porosity In patriarchy men own women and space. Women do not own their own space but are space for men. The space of property is defined by boundaries, walls that are closed, fixed and permanent, with controlled thresholds. Openness permits exchange, ensures movement, prevents saturation in possession or consumption … They keep the passage open … The wall between them is porous. It allows passage of fluids. {35} My house was home to quite a number—friends and strangers—all people whom in their own ways set themselves outside conventional codes of living. I lived on the top floor with my friend, the one who originally discovered the house—derelict, with a pigeons’ graveyard in the roof—and made it home (for me). There were conflicts, vicious attempts from inside and outside to wrest control of the space from the powers that be, to categorize, to establish some kind of hierarchy of property ownership. VI. Between Divisibility and Multiplicity The Indefinite Doing architecture, we follow certain rules: we categorize. We plan spaces for specific activities. Living space is mapped and defining according to

Jane Rendell

Cixous, ‘Sorties’, p. 43.

35 Irigaray, Elemental Passions, pp. 63, 65 and 66.

ideologies of domesticity, where sleeping is divided from playing, from working, from cooking, from eating, from cleaning and so on. Every activity has its compartment, is one, is autonomous. Woman is neither open nor closed. She is indefinite, in-finite, form is never complete in her. {36} In my home the boundaries, which usually control and contain, were intentionally blurred. This was not to enable the free flow of pure space as in the modernist open plan, but rather to intensify the occupation of space by overlaying one kind of living over another—intentions of use, overlaid with mis-use, questioned the boundaries of bodies and places. The bath sat in the center of the roof—bedworklivingspace. From the bath you could talk to the person lying next to you in bed, look up into the sky, down onto the stove, beyond to those eating, and further, through the window onto the street. Architecture is soft like a body if you undo it. VII. Between the ‘Self-same’ and the ‘Other’ Mimicry Doing architecture, we follow certain rules: decor follows structure. In modernism, the displayed surface is expected to represent exactly what lies beneath; to disguise or cover is perceived as duplicitous. To play with the surface for its own sake is perceived as problematic, as formalism. … she is not situated, does not situate herself in her place. Her clothes, her makeup, and her jewels are the things with which she tries to create her container(s), her envelope(s). She cannot make use of the envelope that she is, and must create artificial ones. {37} Our house was resistant to the logic of decoration. The soil pipe gushed diagonally through the stairwell and out of the rear wall of the house: a proud dado rail. The stripping back of partition walls asserted the fabric of the building as a living component of the space. Cracking brickwork and rubble revealed between the splintering stud partitions formed a decorative skin. Metal rivets holding the decrepit ceiling plaster together shone at night like stars. You could see into the toilet—a place where we traditionally demand privacy from prying eyes, ears and noses. The doors to this tiny blue room were spliced open like a swing saloon. Bare bottomed in an intimate space, to flush you placed your hand through a smooth circular hole out into the public void of the stairwell and grabbed a wooden spoon hanging from the ceiling on a rope. Rejecting the constraints imposed by rules of domestic order where ‘everything has its place’, the dividing line between messiness and tidiness disappeared. The seams were the decor. 36

Luce Irigaray, ‘Volume-Fluidity’ [1974], The Speculum of the Other Woman, translated by Gillian C. Gill, Ithaca, New York: Cornell University Press, 1985, pp. 227–240, p. 229.

Luce Irigaray, ‘Sexual Difference’ [1984], An Ethics of Sexual Difference [1984], translated by Carolyn Burke and Gillian C. Gill, Ithaca, New York and London: Cornell University Press and Continuum, 1993, pp. 5–19, p. 11.

VIII. Between Scarcity and Abundance Jouissance Doing architecture, we follow certain rules: we design objects for particular purposes. No, it is at the level of jouissance in my opinion that the difference makes itself most clearly apparent, in as far as woman’s libidinal economy is neither

From Critical Spatial Practice to Site-Writing

identifiable by a man nor referable to the masculine economy. {38} A limited number of possessions demand reuse. For this a detailed knowledge of the geography of the local skips is required, to collect, scavenge and recycle. Only in wealthy pockets can fine furnishings be found abandoned in the street: rugs, three-piece suites, four-poster beds, washing machines and duvets. This condition of potentiality also provided the catalyst to achieve flexibility through transformation, through misuse. Within one life a table was the crowded focus of a drunken evening, several café tables, frames for candle-lit icons, and a hot blaze on a cold night. Deciding just how and when to use an object in a certain way provokes interesting questions. At what point does furniture become firewood? IX. Between Calculation and Approximation The Female Imaginary Doing architecture, we follow certain rules: we use specified materials in prescribed ways. If there is a self proper to women, paradoxically it is her capacity to depropriate herself without self interest: endless body, without ‘end’, without principal ‘parts’; if she is a whole, it is a whole made up of parts that are wholes, not simple, partial objects but varied entirety, moving and boundless change, a cosmos where eros never stops travelling, vast astral space. She doesn’t revolve around a sun that is more star than the stars. {39} A desire for starlit baths and a seamless transition from inside to outside meant cutting holes in the roof. We stapled and re-stapled blue plastic sheets over the twin holes, but the wind blew in and rain water dripped onto the edge of my bed. We waited through the winter, finely tuning the exact design details. Finally, glass sheets were laid to rest directly on slim timber linings rising just proud of the roof slates, elegant steel yachting hooks and rope delicately attached the glass to the frame, revealing the sky, an un-obscured fantasy blue. But alas for bathing en plein air. Lifted to allow in balmy air on a sunny morning, one pane shattered directly into the soapy water narrowly missing a tender skinned bather. We had many disagreements about the unsuitability of nautical details for domestic requirements. Finally I threatened to buy a Velux roof light from Texas Homecare. X. Between Efficiency and Excess Fluid Mechanics Doing architecture, we follow certain rules: efficiency is to be achieved in structure, services and in construction detailing. To challenge ideals of low maintenance, the ordered comforts of domestic routine and laziness, is to question notions of efficiency and opt instead for a high degree of strenuous user involvement, tipping the balance of safety and danger. This is how I figure it: the ladder is neither immobile nor empty. It is animated. It incorporates the movement it arouses and inscribes. My ladder is frequent ed. I say my because of my love for it; it’s climbed by those authors I feel a mysterious affinity for; affinities, choices, are always secret. {40}

Jane Rendell

Hélène Cixous, ‘Sorties’ [1975], translated by Ann Liddle, La jeune née: The Newly Born Woman, Elaine Marks and Isabelle de Courtivron (eds.), New French Feminisms, London: Harvester Wheatsheaf, 1981, pp. 90–98, p. 95.

39 40

Cixous, ‘Sorties’, p. 44.

Hélène Cixous, Three Steps on the Ladder to Writing [1990], translated by Sarah Conell and Sarah Sellers (New York: Columbia University Press, 1993), p. 5.

The ladder to the upper floor, far too short, had missing rungs, and in one place, a piece of sharp cold iron. Vertical movement, especially at night, took place as a series of jolts and slipped footings. No room for complacency, every moment of occupation was écriture feminine—a writing from, and on, the body. Architecture here was no longer solid and dependable, but transient, as fragile as human life. Life lived with unstable materiality is fraught with physical danger. One morning I awoke to a crash and a scream. A friend unfamiliar with the intricacies of the household had missed her step and fallen to the kitchen floor below. Her head narrowly missed the cast iron stove. XI. Between Safety and Danger The angel goes between The angel is that which unceasingly passes through the envelope(s) or container(s), goes from one side to the other, reworking every deadline, changing every decision, thwarting all repetition. {41} Shortly after the accident I moved on. The house moved on. The home I remember is only my imagining. Only in dreams do I ever go home. I will go on to read, ‘Everywhere Else’, a piece which explores different drawing and writing techniques which move between planned and unplanned.

Everywhere Else {42}

Irigaray, ‘Sexual Difference’, p. 15.

This essay was commissioned by Domo Baal of domoBaal contemporary art, London, and originally published as Jane Rendell, ‘Everywhere Else’, Ausland, comprising artists Jan Peters, Silke Schatz and Martina Schmid, London: domoBaal contemporary art, 2003, pp. 2–5. It has also been republished as part of a longer essay, Jane Rendell, ‘Critical Spatial Practice: Curating, Editing, Writing’, Judith Rugg and Michèle Sedgwick (eds.), Issues in Curating Contemporary Art and Performance, Bristol: Intellect, 2007, pp. 59–75.

The cat’s paw is large enough to cover the mountain crest; his tail is as long as the sunlit gully. But look more closely, you can see that the mountain top is the edge of a dense cluster of loops drawn on a sheet of cartridge paper, folded many times. And the cat, having walked across the mountain range, has been sent on his way, relieved that his paw did not leave a mark on the paper. Three figures sit cross-legged on the floor in a room whose function is unclear. Two windows frame views onto a London street and the door in the wall opposite opens into a kitchen that stretches the width of the house. At the kitchen table sits a girl, her sulky head bent over a book. Mounted on the wall behind her is a piece of cartridge paper, folded many times, covered in hundreds, thousands of tiny little loops, drawn in ink. Beside the drawing, on the mantelpiece, is another drawing, smaller, perched this time rather than hung, made of tiny lines drawn in pencil over a painted surface. A horizon line splits the canvas, creating on the mantelpiece, in the foreground, a smoother profile, more hilly than the rugged mountain range that lurks behind in the alcove. As she draws, she daydreams, different voices weave in and out, stories on the television, conversations in the room. She is in a state of almost mindless concentration; at any moment her attention might wander. She slips to a summer meadow high up in the German countryside. Sitting there in the afternoon sunlight, just before the shadows of the surrounding mountain peaks fall across her lap, she wonders how she can feel a stranger in her own country. When the room comes into focus again, she is in another place. The paper on her lap is covered in many patches of tiny loops. How will they ever

From Critical Spatial Practice to Site-Writing

meet? When the joins are invisible, you can lose yourself in the middle; when the upper edge is neat, you can journey along the horizon. The walls in this room look like they are covered in loops too—but up close you can see that these are figures, lots and lots of small numbers. These financial indices that indicate specific quantities with particular functions appear here as surface ornament. In the corner, two sofas are placed at right angles to one another. On the floor between them sit three women, a cat and one half of a pair of shoes. On one sofa art catalogs and CVs spill across the cushions. Behind the other sofa is a long box containing a large drawing, rolled up. This is a drawing of another room, drawn by another hand, drawn from memory. This is a room that matters, but of which she was never quite part. It was his room really, a room that he lived in before she entered his life, a room in which he may have loved others. To draw it is to conjure it into existence, to try to hold it down, to remember it as it was for her. The lines she draws are clear-headed and precise. She draws in a light, hard pencil, sometimes in graphite, sometimes in color. She draws in perspective with the certainty of an architect. But the point of convergence never holds still. From where she is looking, the room shifts in her memory, her focus changes. Looking back into the past, there are many places where eyes might have met. Between the two sofas, a second door leads out into the hallway, where an elegant staircase winds its way upstairs, to a room overlooking the garden. This room will soon contain one of her large perspective drawings. There is talk of a tent filled with her cushions to be placed in the center of the room, where you can lie back and watch him talk of his journey. He travels hard, day after day, moving through corridor after corridor, to try and understand the geometry of the place. But no one on the inside will tell him where he is. If he does not know where he is, how will he know who he is? So he draws himself a map on the palm of his hand to remind him of where he has been, to remind him that ‘he is in the house’. She too has been on many journeys, back from where she has come. Sometimes she uses the folded paper as a diary, one square per day. To remember days and places, she makes marks, one after another, slowly filling up the paper. Sometimes she records a now distant journey, marking all the squares at once, with no sense of sequence. If you fold and unfold the paper you can read one place next to, rather than before or after, another. In the patches of light and shadow she has made over time you can see the horizon of a mountain which you might have visited last summer. In Hanover, this time, not London, three figures face a mirror. A man with wet hair is seated in the foreground. His head is bent downwards, only half his face is visible in the mirror. Behind him a woman leans forward with a pair of open scissors in her hand. She is cutting his hair. (Years down the line, cross-legged in the room full of numerical figures, we will see her profile again.) There is a third person, the face obscured by a camera, two hands adjust the lens—a photograph is taken. The photograph shows three artists, who today live somewhere else. The light from the window hits her face in profile. She sits next to me on the floor, cross-legged. A third woman sits opposite, her back to a sofa. We talk of where we have come from. She was born in Russia, or was it Poland, or perhaps she said Australia. It is hard for me to remember her story, but it was also difficult for her to tell. She comes from somewhere between fact and fiction. I tell them I was born in Dubai, but have moved from place to place so many times that London is my home, simply because it is not everywhere else.

Jane Rendell

* ‘Everywhere Else’ questions the constitution of a legitimate subject or object for art criticism, and expands critical possibilities by looking elsewhere. Each of the three artists included in the exhibition Ausland engage with forms of architectural and spatial representation—Martina Schmid produces forebod ing mountainous landscapes on folded paper from doodles scribbled while daydreaming, {43} Silke Schatz draws large scale architectural perspectives of places she remembers in fine colored pencil, {44} while Jan Peters works in video presenting narratives of his experiences in labyrinthine buildings. {45} The text is written as a detailed empirical account, which retains the same voice to describe what is seen—that which is materially present—as well as to recount those absent sites to which the works refer. domoBaal contemporary art is a gallery located in a Georgian terraced house in London, a building that is the curator’s home too. As a critic you have access to the administration spaces ‘supporting’ the gallery, which are also the domestic rooms of the house, such as the kitchen and living room. Here curator, collectors, artists and critics meet, and as mother and wife, the curator cooks, eats and watches television with her family. Artworks can be found in a number of different settings, exhibited in the gallery, on the living room walls, stored behind sofas and propped up on the kitchen mantelpiece. In relocating its si(gh)tes to those remembered or imagined by the artists as well as these overlooked parts of the gallery, this site-writing seeks to decenter the gallery from its position at the center of art criticism.

PUBLIC WORKS— ENJOYING THE IN-BETWEEN [ Torange Khonsari ]

This article focuses on how ‘public works’ as a practice operates within the disciplines of art and architecture. It seeks to articulate the fragments within the in-between as a space which allows experimentation and critical thinking for both disciplines. The commonality that enables the blurring between public works’ art practice and architecture practice is social engagement and the interest in the public realm as a location for the work to be produced. Jane Rendell talks about how, when art enters the public realm, it has to engage with the kind of restraints that only architecture engages with. Art participation at its best is part of an intellectual, political and in many situations radical mode of socially engaged practice. In her book Artificial Hells, Claire Bishop argues that good relational/participatory practices are: … less interested in a relational aesthetic than in the creative rewards of participation as a political working process. (Claire Bishop—Artificial Hells) She describes artists as being producers of situations rather than artefacts and the audience as becoming active participants or collaborators, which she argues are more powerful as ideals than actualities, although their important role is in questioning conventional modes of production and consumption under capitalism. What Bishop criticizes, however, is the lack of clarity in what such art projects do and achieve both artistically and socially. She criticizes their open-endedness as their weakness and that the artefacts they produce are sometimes unclear as products of a critical discourse. Although there have been very interesting participatory projects in architecture, be it the self-build movement by Walter Segal, writings of urbanist and anarchist writer Colin Ward or work by architects in socially deprived urban areas, in mainstream architecture participation has been widely about achieving top-down consensus. These participatory modes surround the false ideal that if you have consensus you create a sense of ownership and empowerment within the city. This problem of seeking top-down consensus in architecture has led to the least empowering political process where architects seek consensus through consultation events. Participation can become a much more provocative and subversive tool of engagement than that of harmony of development processes. They need to become a tool for critical debate about urban development. Social networks become a very important vehicle to expand and articulate such debates and develop communities of resilience through which new forms of public space, communal public space, can be imagined. These can be physical, social, intellectual, or political. I won’t talk about the destructive nature of consultations in urban development, but I will talk about how the space in between art and architecture enables new roles, networks and theories about participation to be imagined.

See Martina Schmid, Deep 1–6 (2003), ink on paper. See also the artist’s books Martina Schmid, Landed, London: domoBaal contemporary art, 2002, edition of 500, and Martina Schmid, Thirteen Collected Lands, London: domoBaal contemporary art, 2002, edition of 500 as part of the solo exhibition Martina Schmid, Land or Reason (2001) domoBaal contemporary art, London.

See for example Silke Schatz, Köln, Weidengasse (2001) Fluchtpunktstudie (vanishing point study), pencil and colored pencil on paper, 83.4 × 114 cm and A Force for Good (2001), pencil and colored pencil on paper, 190 × 240 cm. Silke Schatz has had three solo shows at the Wilkinson Gallery London, the most recent, Private and Public (2006), deals with subjectivity and architecture through the disturbance of memory, reviewed by Roy Exley, ‘Silke Schatz: Wilkinson Gallery’, Flash Art, vol. 36 (September–October 2006), p. 120.

Jan Peters, Wie ich ein Höhlenmaler wurde (How I Became a Cave Painter) (2001), 16 mm, 38 min.

From Critical Spatial Practice to Site-Writing—Jane Rendell

Public Works—Enjoying the In-Between—Torange Khonsari

Public works within the in-between Here I am going to draw a lot from what Jane Rendell says in her book A Place Between Art and Architecture. She talks about the importance of the third space as one that enables us to imagine the other, a space that is not about binary modes of understanding. When one is the other isn’t, it does not allow for another to be imagined as one which is neither this nor the other. She further notes that in a binary situation there is a hierarchy where one is always in a dominant position. These hierarchies need to be abolished and where consensus comes in is where work is being co-produced between disciplines. Rendell asks for us to de-stabilize the binary settings of art and architecture, public and private, practice and theory. In this space, art and architecture both become transformative in developing new typologies of practice and theory. This space has also its problems. It is extremely tough to define without limiting it; it needs to understand the theoretical and traditional contexts of each discipline and then find the possibilities that the third space provides. Those who protect pure architectural and art theory cannot locate such projects cleanly within the framework of their disciplinary theory and thus fail to see its significance. … real engagement in interdisciplinary work is not simply procedural but demanding emotionally as well as intellectually and politically because this way of working requires us to be critical of what we do and open to change. (Jane Rendell—A Place Between Art and Architecture) Claire Bishop, coming from a purely art context, argues that once these disciplines are blurred they create a vagueness that makes what they produce difficult to assess as art. This kind of thinking is a missed opportunity constrained by boundaries of disciplines, which don’t know how to evaluate or contextualize the work. However, it is also a call to such practices to articulate the content and context within which the projects should be understood. The position that Rendell puts forward in terms of calling these interdisciplinary practices ‘critical spatial practice’ is where I would position public works. The common elements between public works’ art and architecture practice are: 1—The interest in positioning work in the public realm 2—The interest in social change through development of commons and networks 3—Engagement and participation as a tool to develop networks and commons public works's projects over the years have shifted between constructing a situation to making social or political commentary, such as projects like My Club, 1000 Bags, and Feast, or projects constructing a situation which hopes to sow the seeds for future social networks to develop such as The Mobile Porch, Committee of Lost Memories Café. Projects that are event- or workshop-based provide a setting where collaboratively produced artefacts are created with the aim of forming a committed social network. This can be seen through projects such as Wick Curiosity Shop, Wick on Wheels, Colchester Inn.

Public Works—Enjoying the In-Between

My Club Courtesy: public works

The method of engagement is dependent on the duration of the projects. The projects are short-term (from one week to a couple of months), medium-term (one month to a year), and long-term (over several years). If the project is short-term, it does not pretend to make a lasting social impact, but rather generates situations that produce social or political commentary. Long-term projects expand a network of co-producers, shared knowledge and create a community’s specific common ground and interest. The medium-term projects sit between the short-term and the long-term methods and construct situations/programs that develop new typologies of public space where communities of resilience or communities with common ground can flourish.

Short-term projects— Constructing situations to give social and political commentary In the project My Club the constructed situation is performative. Situated within the main shopping district of Southend-on-Sea, the project questions modes of production and consumption by setting up a production space manned by one person for the whole day, co-producing collars as jewelry. The highly embellished collars were co-produced and given away for free. Orders were placed in the morning and free collars were produced and given away by the end of the day. The temporary space created was a sharp contrast to the retail spaces of the center, where most of the products are produced off-site, shipped to the UK and sold commercially. In 1000 Bags, a project commissioned by the Whitechapel Gallery, public works took residency in Petticoat Lane Market using neighboring fabric shops as a local resource. The project aimed to create 1000 bags, which it gave away for free. Again the production, taking place on the market and with the products given away for free, was in stark contrast to the commercial retail context it took

Torange Khonsari

place within. However here the shops, which provide fabric as a resource, became an active network of partners and collaborators in the project and for that short period of time the project constructed a common interest where their collective fabrics came together in creating bags. What does one call these temporary communities and what is their purpose? Do they construct temporary commons? Projects on this scale critique a social context whilst at the same time triggering development of a temporary community.

Medium-term projects— Creating and experimenting with typologies of public space In the past 13 years, public works have operated and experimented with different forms of public space and have tried to test their meaning through projects. I won’t start to define what is ‘public’ in this article as this would be a paper by itself, but what I will outline are the different modes of operation that have allowed us to explore the role of public space in our projects. These consist of: 1—Roaming temporary structures 2—Abandoned/undefined urban spaces 3—Active town squares and plazas

Roaming temporary structures

Mobile porch Courtesy: public works

The temporary structures, although requiring permission from the landlords, become more independent as a public space within a public space. They become our public domain within the city’s public domain. Their temporariness means that they are not tied to a sense of responsibility to a landlord and those regulating the public spaces and thus can take a more radical and independent role. They become the domain of the artist/architect within the city and thus activating these structures by means of freeing them as a piece of free urban space becomes one of their predominant roles within the public realm. It operates informally and brings out informality. These structures are physicalities that provoke various models of sociability to emerge, and as those structures, models and networks of sociability are important the physicality needs to be designed or produced to suit their emergence. The physicality within our projects may take its formal language from the architecture and design world, but the processes that animate them, through situations, events, engagements and co-production, are taken from the conceptual context of participatory/relational art. It is important to note that culture becomes a radical context to question conventional boundaries of disciplines and produce new theories around social engagement and material expression. Mobile Porch is the project that describes this condition best. Mobile Porch, a roaming public space under the Westway in London, not only created a free space offered to local residents to use as they pleased, but also

Public Works—Enjoying the In-Between

created a platform where local networks spontaneously gathered and met. Roaming temporary structures enables them to be hosted by others. These structures visit the public rather than summoning it.

Abandoned/undefined space Again the idea of utilizing spaces by freeing them up and offering them as open and free public spaces of the city is what particular public works projects try to achieve. It is not about making un-useful spaces useful, but about appropriating them to expand the public realm of the city in a political context where our public realm is becoming more and more regulated with prescribed modes of behavior—No ball games, No loitering, No drinking, etc. Projects such as Committee of Lost Memories Café takes a declining shop in a housing estate in West Bromwich, Birmingham and turns it into a café where tea and cakes are sold for ¼ of the normal retail price. Oral history is captured on maps. The café became a place where people sat around and talked about old memories across tables over tea and cake. It became a place where young boys bored of loitering in the kebab shop came to play with skittles donated by the church and haggle for muffins. It was a place where young girls came to get their hair braided by the Caribbean church congregation and others interested in more serious talks on local history would come to learn from the History Society. For a period of two weeks this space became an extension of the public realm of the housing estate. The space became a new typology of public space in between the un-programmed space of the green areas in the estate and the non-commercialized space of the shop. It was neither a shop nor the public green. It was programmed to attract an audience and a public who could take it on as an extension of their public spaces. The project created a third space typology of what a public space set up by an art and architecture practice can look like. This project tested how, by re-appropriating a currently failing urban typology such as shops in Charlemont housing estate, one can redefine and expand the public realm, which accommodates social exchange and gathering. This, if sustained over time, can set up a network that has the potential to create communities with common interests.

Long-term projects— Developing communities of resilience Projects such as Wick on Wheels—WOW become projects that over time set up more lasting relationships, partnerships and networks within areas of the city. These projects gather groups with common interests and common aims in settings such as workshops towards collaborative co-production of artefacts. Workshops facilitated by public works are led by different local experts and knowledge, and skills gained through the workshops are disseminated through events and talks and critiqued in open debates. “Social and creative capital are the new world markets of the late capitalist politics of growth which has created great change in the relationship between art and the economy, which in turn has effected curatorial activity, exhibitions and art criticism. Network practices involving creative cultural practitioners enable new alliances and collaborations outside and beyond the boundaries of each

Torange Khonsari

Wick on Wheels Courtesy: public works

discipline. Network actions and knowledge are not simply transferred from one area to another but utilized, altered and transformed. The network thus becomes transformative and develops knowledge shared collectively with openness.” (Peter Moertenboeck and Helge Mooshammer—Networked Cultures–Parallel Architectures and the Politics of Space) Opposing the corporate culture of patenting ideas, “WOW” gives value to household knowledge developed by informal networks of innovators. Rather than copyrighting these for individual interest, they can be copyrighted under creative commons open to creative development rather than commercial gain. The specific knowledge shared in the workshop contexts are then tested and communicated through the application of making. The application, appreciation and publication of this knowledge gives the network value, importance and in turn has the potential to empower a loosely formed community. In this situation the artist/architect, as well as contributing to the knowledge pool, becomes a facilitator in setting up the network and developing shared platforms—commons. “Networks extend the realm of direct action, be it spatial interventions which are socially motivated or political action. These spaces of action are places of engagement and constant negotiation of the conditions of taking part and constant questioning of the role of participation in different conditions.” (Peter Moertenboeck and Helge Mooshammer—Networked Cultures–Parallel Architectures and the Politics of Space) Through becoming part of a network of people who know each other, can help each other and support each other, communities emerge over time that can construct, resist and develop a collective voice. Collaboration perpetuates and expands social networks and enables specific commonalities to develop: political context that enabled public works (art and architecture) to emerge.

Public Works—Enjoying the In-Between

In the UK under the ‘New Labour’ government there were numerous policies put into place that gave rise to localized bottom-up organizations commissioning public realm work. These organizations, such as ‘New deal for communities’, were told they needed participatory methods which were socially inclusive towards the design of the public realm. They outlined that they wanted an outcome that had ‘inclusive’ community engagement. This meant that the architects brought out the Post-it notes with the best intentions to get consensus and make an inclusive community to inhabit the public realm they designed. Some did it better than others, but what became an opportunity for a select number of participatory practices was based on a false hope—that you can create a community and consensus in a few workshops. In my 2008 article “Contemporary initiatives in participatory art and architecture practice” I talk about one such project and its failures as a truly socially engaged project for the design of public space, and that the powers that wanted the inclusivity were the powers that through their governance structures and procedures did not allow any inclusivity to emerge, or allow the time for it to develop. They had to be seen to be taking an interest. Architecture practices that were more successful in achieving social engagement were those that understood the limitations and negotiated different time scales and whose ultimate goal was not the physical master piece but subtle design solutions that enabled social networks to emerge. Alongside this, cultural policy under ‘New Labour’ was doing exactly the same, but with art commissioning in the public realm. Comments from Tony Blair such as ‘What can art do for society?’ were followed by answers similar to those for the architects developing the public realm. This was detrimental to artistic discourse, as it called for it to be useful rather than critical and experimental. However, it created an interesting context where there was a commonality between art and architecture, which enabled them to be commissioned under similar aims. This commonality created a very interesting context for interdisciplinary practices such as public works to emerge, but there were no tools for how they can operate in this in-between space. The traditions and language of the disciplines were wide apart, and critics believed that this blurring muddied the waters. Fine art departments felt that not making art for yourself as self-expression and making it for others is compromising art, and architects not willing to let go of familiar roles and architectural traditions and theories defended their position. This sets up a space of conflict that requires emotional, political and theoretical will to occupy and articulate. I believe it is the task of this space of conflict, where new typologies can be imagined, to feed as well as transform the disciplines. One also has to be careful about how to define these spaces, practices, or projects so as not to limit their potential. Edward Soja, in his book Thirdspace, defines this in-between space: “I define Thirdspace as an-Other way of understanding and acting to change the spatiality of human life, a distinct mode of critical spatial awareness that is appropriate to the new scope and significance being brought about in the rebalanced trialectices of spatiality-historicality-sociality.” (Edward Soja—Thirdspace) Soja describes this space as one that holds the objective and the subjective as well as the concrete and abstract. It is a space where new possibilities can be explored and new meanings can be defined. It is this space that needs further exploration and scrutiny.

Torange Khonsari

02 Exploring the New Role of the Urban Practitioner 92

From Hembyg(g)d, Marabouparken Konsthall 2012 in Sundbyberg. The method of Kerstin Bergendal is the low-key improvised public dialog, by which she calls particpants not only to speak their mind, but to see and hear each other.

came at a cost: the price per square meter would be fixed at a remarkably low rate. No additional costs for roads and facilities could be added. The builders could select the specific sites of interest and the town had to adapt all plans for them. At the point in time when I enter this story, the builders had already waited fourteen years. Now they were pushing for the initiation of the necessary “democratic” procedures in order for them to begin building. Their chosen sites were the green areas between two existing parts of Sundbyberg. A formal proposal had been prepared for a public hearing. If realized, the new settlements would

Under this heading, Marabouparken Konsthall initiates long-term local collaborative projects that link artists, people, and the city’s common spaces and enable creativity and experience from different sources in an interesting dialog about the shaping of the society in which we live. Marabouparken Lab., as indicated by its name, focuses on experimental projects, which are open-ended and explorative and are realized both inside and outside the gallery.

“PARK PLAY” is the name of small public institutions, formerly placed in parks of new urban areas in Sweden. Basically it was a manned playground with a single, modest building and only one or two members of staff. Here, children could borrow different play items or just join one of the activities. This institution did not have registered users, but rested entirely on the voluntary engagement of residents. Each PARK PLAY would also be run differently, depending on the area and on how the staff were able to deal with its semi-temporary status, the virtually non-existent budget and the all-day opening requirements. A PARK PLAY would thus often cultivate its relations to the local neighborhood and the tiny building could gain a substantial impact on a local area, simply because it acted as a meeting point for residents. The PARK PLAY is relevant for the subject of this publication as it encircles an operative space to inhabit, also for me as a visual artist. The vague territory. The long term, but not permanent. A state of exception, but as a premise. Intervention … just by being there. Sundbyberg, a Swedish town with 40,000 inhabitants, is a direct neighbor to Stockholm City. Formerly a producer of vegetables and tobacco for Stockholm, it became a production zone with factories, such as the Marabou chocolate factory. Today Sundbyberg

[ Kerstin Bergendal ]

THE PARK PLAY PROJECT— A TALE OF ACCUMULATIVE PLANNING

The final counter-plan by Kerstin Bergendal, elaborated and built up as a ”layer-upon-layer” image of lived experience from the area.

remove a large chunk of a highly appreciated park that is used by people from all over town. Had this not been the case, I would never have heard of them, or of the deal. The public art gallery of Sundbyberg is Marabouparken Konsthall. I was invited by the gallery for a residency, related to a series of extra muros projects, entitled Marabouparken Lab. {01} (see www. marabouparken.se). Curator Helena Selder asked me to consider using the PARK PLAY project as a point of departure for my residency, as she had made this connection in relation to my previous works. Maybe the formal structure of the entire project came with the starting point. I began by inviting two ladies for coffee and cake. I wanted to find out about the role that public parks played in everyday life in Sundbyberg. Both ladies were civil servants, each with a different professional role in relation to public parks of Sundbyberg.

is no longer a production area. Rather, it is one of the few towns in the densely populated Stockholm region that still has green and open areas that can be sold off for building development. In fact, the town’s size is expected to grow to 60,000 residents in just a few years. Socially, Sundbyberg is clearly a divided city. Large zones of picturesque villas for some of Sweden’s wealthiest people are located just a few hundred meters away from large-scale social housing for residents with below-minimum income. During a national economic crisis in 2004, Sundbyberg’s financial situation looked critical. The town administration decided to accept a proposal from six large building companies offering a kind of “down payment”. They wished to secure an attractive site for development whenever the demand for new homes grew stronger again. For the town administration, the income from this development would look good on its annual financial report. But this agreement

A section of the wall in the Pink Room of Hallonbergen station centre. The wall continously changed troughout the 18 months of dialog in PARK PLAY PARLIAMENT, acting as a logbook for the project.

and financial limits were interesting at this point. The only given point of departure was the fact that the builders had already had a deal for 14 years. And that this deal could not be broken. The real question was therefore: What opportunities would open starting out from a shared influence, with a joint effort and with common responsibility to deal with this? The solutions that were sketched during these workdays were later “translated” into the (power) language of planning, and published on the website. Along with the videos, they were presented to politicians and all civil servants at Marabouparken in May 2012. Later the same year, “THE PARK PLAY PROJECT II” was publicly presented at a group exhibition at Marabouparken Konsthall, entitled HEMBYG(G)D. The films were presented in a mock-up of a living room on a TV on the wall (the TV couch being the public space of today). Next to this mock-up, the large model visualized a concluding strategic counter-proposal, which I had elaborated in collaboration with architect MC Trabut Jørgensen and planner Peter Schultz Jørgensen for this occasion. {03} At the time, my intention was purely to visualize all-that-was-not-included in the current proposal. And to give proof of the experience and knowledge normally lost with a standard hearing procedure. By doing so, I wanted to question why the power of definition is given to such limited groups, such as the one behind the original proposal. But I was “kicking in open doors”. Sundbyberg Town had already accepted “THE PARK PLAY PROJECT II” as a formal hearing response, a collective contestation to the first proposal. I develop my works as I go along. On the one hand, I use time. I am present for a long time and spend a lot of time talking, listening and passing on what I find. On the other hand, I instrumentalize the very figure of the artist: the license to cross borders, to question, to be utterly naive and utopic. All of which comes just with this profession. For me, this license is a kind of room. And others can be invited to this room, when I choose to. Or maybe it is more a female strategy for intervention: mounting mental communality just by knitting relations between the residents? Assuming the role of hostess for a here-and-now-andmaybe-not-tomorrow logic because of a wish to call people back to order? Running one’s own state of exception, like a soap bubble in

I spent half a year visiting different homes in these two urban areas with my backpack and my camera. Prior to this, I had advertised for people who would like to show me the areas “seen through their window”. For this to happen, each interested person had to contact a secretary at the cultural centre and book me for a visit. I met local residents. I met people just working in the area, such as the guards in the mall, the dean at the school or the lady at the library. I also met people from local associations, property owners, politicians, civil servants and shopkeepers, the police, planners and staff at the housing company. Sometimes I met a group of people, for instance the seven senior citizens at the local senior citizens’ centre. I had two different aims with these dialogs. First to make a kind of portrait of the person I met, and the knowledge he or she held. Secondly, simply to record their comments on the proposal, as this would otherwise not have been documented. But as the number of participants grew, my films also came to map interpersonal relationships that characterize daily life in these areas. The entity of films became a kind of visual historical document of two urban areas. A major part of this local history had actually never been recorded earlier. Once published, the videos automatically stirred up an intense local debate. Fired by this enthusiasm, the participants wanted to meet to discuss how to respond to the proposed plan. I arranged for four days of workshops in March 2012. This time builders and civil servants joined in along with additional professionals, researchers and young people. Discussions, disappointments, visions and open conflicts were literally played out in the open around an eight-squaremeter model of the two areas. I acted as the moderator. It was thus entirely clear to everyone in the room that this process was a part of a visual art project. We were not acting in reality, but in a space alongside reality. No hierarchy between the participants was relevant here. No practical

Marie Cathrine Trabut Jørgensen is my permanent collaborator concerning the entire PARK PLAY project. Peter Schultz Jørgensen has contributed to the PARK PLAY project with his in-depth knowledge of how urban areas can grow into living organisms.

“PARK PLAY II” was financed as part of a research assignment “Samverkan om gestaltning av offentliga miljöer” (“Collaboration on the Shaping of Public Environments”) led by the National Public Art Council of Sweden, the Swedish National Heritage Board, the Swedish National Board of Housing, Building, and Planning and the Swedish Museum of Architecture (for more information, see: www.statenskonstrad.se).

apartments and the great park is just around the corner. Having lived a whole life here, any major change is, of course, not particularly welcome. It is particularly unwelcome if it leads to the Ford being more connected with Raspberry Hills. The Ford actually boasts the highest number of voters for the young nationalist party, the Swedish Democrats. “We simply will not be boxed with ‘those people’”, I was told. The name “Raspberry Hills” comes from the people. In fact, the hill used to be a tobacco farm. For this reason, the soil was heavily fertilized resulting in an extraordinarily rich growth of raspberry bushes. In the 1960s the Swedish Social Democratic Party launched their plan for building one million new homes in just ten years. The Raspberry Hills area was chosen for this program, and it became one of the first areas to be finished. For all Swedes, the name became synonymous with the intentions of this program: all inhabitants were to be equals and live in tall, large but good quality buildings that were combined with good cultural and educational facilities. Everyone was to be ensured equal access to green areas and clean air. But a fully programmed result, however, has one important disadvantage: unless continuously maintained, the only change that can take place over time is that of deterioration. As seen in many other European suburban areas, the Raspberry Hills reached a tipping point of low maintenance, which changed the demographics of its inhabitants. Now it is part of a circle of urban areas around Stockholm that are mostly populated by culturally alienated and decidedly poor inhabitants with no or a low level of education. Alienation has two sides. There clearly exists a sense of community among some of the inhabitants of Raspberry Hills today. Stay there for some time and you will actually feel like you are in a tiny village in the countryside. Everybody knows who you are. Certain benches in the local centre act as meeting points for the very same people at the very same time—every day. Outside you see people stopping to shake hands, ask about the family or shout at passing misbehaving kids, regardless of whether or not they are family. But this community is simultaneously a cage or restricted zone. A large part of these inhabitants do not feel welcome or comfortable elsewhere.

As it turned out, they had rarely worked together. Having to answer my questions made them realize the extent to which the public parks in Sundbyberg were being sold off for building projects. One simple talk around a coffee table led to another and soon became a series of talks. The circle of participants gradually widened as others were brought along. This series was the first phase of “THE PARK PLAY PROJECT”. One of the participants was the chief architect Karin Milles. She brought up the deal with the builders for critical discussion and later showed me the area, the park and the proposed plan. As the proposal was to be put forward for a hearing in October 2011, I decided to perform a parallel hearing with a set of conditions different to those that apply to a normal hearing. Instead of presenting written documents at the library, I would take a slow-paced walk-and-talk process, actually visiting those whose knowledge of the areas had not been included in the proposed plan. On behalf of Sundbyberg Town, Karin Milles applied and obtained the funding, and secured a manoeuvre radius of “THE PARK PLAY PROJECT II”. {02} From October 2011 to March 2012, I stayed in the area for ten days each month. In spring 2012, I published 46 short video films documenting parts of our talks on www.parklek.com and on YouTube. (See www.parklek.com.) The two existing areas that had been chosen for development were ÖR and HALLONBERGEN, crudely translated to English as the Ford and the Raspberry Hills. The Vikings first named the Ford as a place to haul their boats across land between two lakes. Several hundred years later in the 1960s, the Ford became the first suburban structure of Sundbyberg. Many of its first residents still live here and appreciate its peaceful location. All buildings are low-rise and almost tucked into nature. There is a splendid view over the surrounding green areas from the

Pink Room for PARK PLAY PARLIAMENT by Kerstin Bergendal in collaboration with studio feuer was in fact an empty corner of the worn-down shopping mall that was perceived as an informal meeting place for people in the area. The pink is a reappropriation of the color of the local metro station.

The Pink Room was designed in collaboration with studio feuer.

which the actually-equally-possible solutions not only can be recognized, but also thoroughly elaborated—with a little help from my friends? But only until the actually-equally-possible, can stand on its own. Today, about three years later, I still drink a lot of coffee with people in Sundbyberg. In September 2013, Sundbyberg Town asked to prolong “THE PARK PLAY PROJECT” for a third time. They wanted to transfer from utopia what could be used in reality, if only further elaborated into more specific programs: the generous budget allowed assistance from external professionals. No matter how this was done, I would have to get my hands dirty. The project would act as an instrument for the town administration, and thus indirectly for the builders. But not to go on did not make sense either. So many had committed themselves to the process, only to obtain this. So I decided to add a word to the project title. “PARK PLAY”, became “PARK PLAY PARLIAMENT”. I wanted the territory of the project to serve as a kind of temporary parliament. In addition, I set a fixed end date for the art project—the last day of March 2014. I also proposed that three new organisational bodies be established. A municipal project office was placed inside the art project, led by Åsa Steen from Sundbyberg Town, assisted by two planners, Helena Dunberg and Lisa Brattström. All the activities of the combined art project and municipal project office were to be performed in full view of the public in a temporary location, the Pink Room, which I established in an open corner of the local mall. {04} A new local council consisting of all landowners in the two areas, was inserted in between the project and the administration. With the longer horizon of interest among its members, this group now acted as commissioners of “PARK PLAY PARLIAMENT”. Finally, for each of the six focus areas identified by “PARK PLAY II”, a work group was opened for the public. Each group has met at least four times during one year. These groups have all consisted of a

And the builders? They have now chosen to participate, as far as we understand. But we do not know what will happen when the administration goes back to business as usual. Therefore, before March we hope to finalize a strategic plan for future development. If approved by the politicians, future development of the areas will not be based only upon where and how builders can maximize their profit. But upon accumulated knowledge of, and lived experience from, the Ford and the Raspberry Hills.

surprisingly broad range of different agents. With the time now invested in their dialog, they will be able to continue to collaborate on different aspects of the future urban development. Today we are in the middle of finding ways to realize their proposals. Some examples include how we have possibly found ways to expand and strengthen the green areas, while simultaneously giving the builders even more square meters than agreed in the deal—simply by partly closing down and moving a main road. We hope to have reestablished a hugely missed community building, The Top Hut at the Raspberry Hills, by August 2014. We have been looking for ways to improve conditions for social and youth clubs, and are currently working with the staff to investigate this possibility, simply by rethinking their roles and collaboration. And a parent association has been organized, currently consisting of 60 members.

Exhibition view from Hembyg(g)d, Marabouparken Konsthall 2012 in Sundbyberg. A mock-up of a sitting room, complete with living flowers, images on the wall and a large TV in front of a sofa. Over 50 films with participating locals, architects, planners, builders, shop owners and school children are presented in the TV.

Josef Lueger → S. 106 Claudia Nutz → S. 106 Ursula Maria Probst → S. 112 Erich Streichsbier → S. 114 Martina Taig → S. 114 Andrea Holzmann → S. 180 Peter Arlt → S. 234

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Was empfinden Sie als bereichernd an der Figur/Rolle der Urban Practitioners? Da die elementaren Bedingungen einer funktionierenden Öffentlichkeit gegenwärtig überall auf der Welt einer massiven Bedrohung ausgesetzt sind und eine Minderheit von Leuten dabei ist, dem größten Teil der Bevölkerung die Grundlagen eines selbstverantwortlichen, aktiven, lustvollen und stilvollen Lebens in der Öffentlichkeit zu entziehen, ist die Rolle von Urban Practitioners die einer lustvollen Gegenkraft, die eines Erkennenden, der neu entstehende Räume dem sogenannten „öffentlichen Menschen“ zur Verfügung stellt. Und was als die größte Herausforderung? Dass es gelingt, im „öffentlichen Menschen“ dieses Begehren auf einen wirkungsvollen Raum zu wecken. Welche Rollen sollen künstlerische Strategien in Bezug auf Stadtplanung und Stadtentwicklung einnehmen? Mit welchen Fragestellungen sollen sich Urban Practitioners befassen? Nur als kulturelle, das heißt öffentliche Menschen sind wir fähig, Begeisterung über unsere Verwandlungskraft zu empfinden. Wir benötigen Rollen, die uns zeigen, wie etwas gemacht gehört, und die uns gebieten, es zu tun. Künstlerische Strategien sollen Raum schaffen, der die großartigen Momente des Lebens ermöglicht. Und die wirklich großartigen Momente des Lebens entstehen durch die Verwandlung von etwas, das wir so nicht immer haben wollen. In diesem Sinne kommt den Strategien der Kunst eine große Bedeutung zu. Der Erprobung neuer Prozesse sollte zu mehr Bedeutung verholfen werden. Denn eine moderne, pluralistische Stadtgesellschaft

Ich glaube mittlerweile, dass es wenig zielführend ist zu versuchen, alle Möglichkeiten zur Intervention und Teilhabe am öffentlichen Leben mit einem Begriff zu fassen. Möglicherweise liegt jedoch der Wert von Rollenbeschreibungen wie „KünstlerIn“ oder „Urban Practitioner“ genau darin, dass diese offenen Begriffe den AkteurInnen ermöglichen, eine neuartige Vielzahl von Methoden und Instrumenten in die urbane Praxis einzubringen und dennoch so etwas wie eine Berufsbezeichnung zu führen, die ein Recht auf formelle Teilnahme an Planungsprozessen verleihen könnte. Doch auch ohne Vertrag, Sitz, und Stimme stehen sämtliche Formen zivilgesellschaftlicher Intervention zur Verfügung. Vielleicht müssen wir als professionell Beteiligte in bestimmten Fragen hin und wieder auch BürgerIn, NachbarIn, AktivistIn oder PolitikerIn sein. Mit anderen gemeinsam.

Worauf warten Sie? Ich glaube darauf zu warten, dass das nationale und internationale Netzwerk der Urban Practitioners sichtbarer und wirksamer wird. Was bedeutet für Sie intensiv? Die Aufmerksamkeit auf die Lust am Spiel, auf das Lustprinzip in der Kultur zu richten.

Kurator, Berater und Publizist, Wien

Martin Fritz → S.100

Welche Themen finden Sie aufgrund Ihrer beruflichen Erfahrung besonders relevant für die Gesellschaft, die Öffentlichkeit und den öffentlichen Raum? Wie können wir als Urban Practitioners gestalterische Strategien denkbar werden lassen, wenn es um die Verarmung der Gesellschaft in Bezug auf politische Teilhabe, soziale Sicherheit und ästhetische Respektierung geht? Strategien, die in der Lage sind, im Fall der Verunsicherung und des Verarmens der Gesellschaft mit einer Stärkung des sozialen Zusammenhalts und einer politisierenden Urbanität zu antworten.

Martin Fritz

Welche Veränderungen wünschen Sie sich? Was könnte die Arbeit der Urban Practitioners erleichtern? Dass durch urbane Praxis Perspektiven für eine urbane Gesellschaft entwickelt werden und damit einem Recht auf Stadt zum Durchbruch verholfen wird. Diesem Recht auf Stadt muss auf allen Entscheidungsebenen Rechnung getragen werden. Sind Sie eine Urban Practitioner? Bzw.: Wen würden Sie als Urban Practitioner bezeichnen? Ja, ich würde sagen, dass ich eine Urban Practitioner bin. Urban Practitioners sind BürgerInnen, die Verantwortung für eine Gesellschaft im Wandel übernehmen und handeln. Wie viel Planung braucht das Ungeplante? Das Ungeplante braucht wie jedes Spiel Spielregeln, damit einer Überwindung dieser Regeln in einem sozialen Rollenspiel positive Affekte hinzugefügt werden können.

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Martin Fritz

Ute Burkhardt-Bodenwinkler → S. 100

Was erscheint Ihnen besonders schwierig an Ihrem Beruf im Alltag? Die zukünftige Seestadt Wiens, unser Alltag für immerhin zwei Jahre, dieses große, noch weitgehend brachliegende Land bietet Raum für das „Dazwischen“. Das Erkennen, dass hier mit temporären Interventionen und starken Erzählungen, mit neuen Strategien, Spielregeln und neuen AkteurInnen eingegriffen werden kann, um BürgerInnen öffentlichen Raum zur Verfügung stellen zu können, bedeutet, in völlig neuen Allianzen zu konzipieren und zu handeln, bedeutet, die Bereitschaft zum permanenten Prozess, bedeutet, einer Divergenz verschiedener Begehrlichkeiten Raum zur Verhandlung zu lassen.

produziert ihre Stadt zunehmend selbst. Entsprechend muss die Stadtentwicklung in immer höherem Maße einem Paradigma der Teilhabe folgen und damit die tradierten Partizipationsverfahren ergänzen. Es geht auch darum, bei EntscheidungsträgerInnen in Wirtschaft und Politik Verantwortung einzufordern, um notwendige Rahmenbedingungen zu schaffen, die für Kunst und Kultur im urbanen Kontext den gegenwärtigen Zustand von Lähmung beenden.

ist Architektin und Stadtforscherin, lebt in Wien. 2010 Mitbegründung von content.associates, einer interdisziplinären Arbeitsgruppe.

After the symposium, workshop participants were invited to further reflect on the potential of the urban practitioner:

Ute Burkhardt-Bodenwinkler / PUBLIK

Ute Burkhardt-Bodenwinkler

Fragen an Urban Practitioners

R-Urban

Budget: EUR 1.300.000 Funders: EC Life + Programme, Departement Haut de Seine, Region Ile de France Number of people involved: 200 Construction: September 2011–September 2015

Growing global awareness has recently led to increased calls for collective action to confront current and future challenges, such as global warming, depletion of fossil fuels and other natural resources, economic recession, population growth, housing and employment crises, growing social and economic divides, and geopolitical conflict. R-Urban is one of the numerous small-scale initiatives that have emerged as a reaction to the slow pace of governmental processes and the lack of consensus in taking these challenges further and evaluating their consequences for people’s lives. New approaches to urban regeneration are desperately needed in times of economic crisis, which might take advantage of the increased social capital which supplements the diminishing of financial capital. R-Urban has been conceived by atelier d’architecture autogérée as a bottom-up framework for resilient urban regeneration. After three years of research, we have proposed the project to various municipalities and grassroots organizations in cities and towns. We conceived it as a participative strategy based on the setting up of local ecological cycles that activate material (e.g., water, energy, waste, and food) and immaterial (e.g., local skill, socioeconomic, cultural, and self-building) flows between key fields of activity (e.g., economy, habitation, and urban agriculture) that already exist or could be implemented within the existing fabric of the city. We have started the concrete implementation of the R-Urban strategy in 2011 in Colombes, a suburban town of 84,000 inhabitants near Paris, in partnership with the local municipality and a number of organizations and local residents. The project is intended to gradually generate a network around collective facilities hubs, each with complementary

[ atelier d’architecture autogérée ]

R-URBAN: RESILIENT AGENCIES, LOCAL CIRCUITS, AND CIVIC PRACTICES

The Agrocite hub, R-Urban Colombes 2013. Photo: aaa

Conceptor and coordinator: atelier d’architecture autogérée

For more information, see http://r-urban.net

urban functions, bringing together emerging citizen projects and creating spatial and ecological agencies to enhance the capacity of urban resilience. The first three collective facilities include a recycling and eco-construction unit, a cooperative housing unit, and an urban agriculture unit. The units are collectively run and their architecture showcases the various issues they address, such as local material recycling, local skills, energy production and food growing. {01} Recyclab is a recycling and eco-construction unit comprising several facilities for storing and reusing locally salvaged materials, recycling and transforming them into eco-construction elements for self-building and retrofitting. An associated ‘fab lab’ has been set up for resident use. Recyclab will function as a social enterprise. Ecohab is a cooperative eco-housing project comprising a number of partially self-built and collectively managed ecological dwellings, including several shared facilities and schemes (e.g. food growing, production spaces, energy and water harvesting, and car sharing). The seven dwellings will include two social flats and a temporary residence unit for students and researchers. Ecohab will be run as a cooperative. Agrocité is an agricultural unit comprising an experimental micro-farm, community gardens, pedagogical and cultural spaces, and a series of experimental devices for compost heating, rainwater collection and use for garden irrigation, solar energy production, grey water phyto-remediation. Agrocité is a hybrid structure, with some components running as social enterprises (e g. the micro-farm, market, worm compost farm, and café) and others being run by local organizations (e.g. the community garden, cultural space, and pedagogical space). We expect that R-Urban collective hubs will grow in number and will be managed by a cooperative land trust, which will acquire space, facilitate development, and guarantee democratic governance. Current stakeholders include existing local organisations, professional organisations and institutions at regional and national levels as well as social entrepreneurs and ordinary citizens.

R-Urban pilot facilities and cycles at Colombes.

Market at Agrocite, R-Urban Colombes 2014.

André Gorz, Manifeste utopia (Manifesto Utopia). Brest, France: Edition Parangon, 2008, p. 13.

Networks and cycles of production—consumption will form between the collective facilities and the neighborhood, closing chains of need and supply as locally as possible. To overcome the current crisis, we must try, as French philosopher André Gorz states, “to produce what we consume and consume what we produce”. {02} However, R-Urban interprets this production—consumption chain broadly, going well beyond material aspects to include the cultural, cognitive, and affective dimensions. The project sets a precedent for the participative retrofitting of metropolitan suburbs, in which the relationship between the urban and the rural is reconsidered. It tries to demonstrate what citizens can do if they change working and living habits. R-Urban is not only about ‘sustainability’ but about societal change and political and cultural reinvention, addressing issues of social inequality, power, and cultural difference. A city can only become resilient with the active involvement of its diverse inhabitants. To stimulate the democratic engagement of the largest number of citizens, we need tools, knowledge, and places for testing new collective practices and initiatives and for showcasing the results and benefits of a resilient transformation of the city. In this, architects have a role to play. Rather than acting merely as building designers, they can be initiators, negotiators, co-managers, and enablers of processes and agencies. Concentrating on spatial agencies and networks around collective hubs, R-Urban tries to supply tools and spaces that will manifest citizens’ existing resilience initiatives and practices. Spatial design processes contribute to expressing ecological cycles in tangible ways and help facilitate citizen’s experiences of making and doing. Democratic governance principles are as such associated with concrete hands-on actions the consequences of which are visible and measurable. More than just adaptation, resilience is for R-Urban a catalyst of urban activation, innovation, and creativity.

Also darauf warte ich: Machen statt Schauen und Klatschen für die Idee und die Energien dahinter! Noch haben wir allerdings diesen Haltungswandel zum erwartenden und neugierigen Schauen vor uns. Daher braucht gerade das Ungeplante wiederum Planung, oder besser gesagt einen Aushandlungsprozess. Erst wenn die Abhängigkeiten soweit gelockert

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Welche Themen finden Sie aufgrund Ihrer beruflichen Erfahrung besonders relevant für die Gesellschaft, die Öffentlichkeit, den öffentlichen Raum? Ich denke, der Schlüssel für erfolgreiche Entwicklungen – seien dies nun gesellschaftliche, unternehmerische oder gestalterische – liegt immer darin, dass es eine Person braucht, die Verantwortung übernimmt. Sich verantwortlich fühlt für das, was man tut – im Kleinen wie im Großen. Verantwortung als aktives Element, nicht als passives im Nachhinein.

Was erscheint Ihnen besonders schwierig an Ihrem Beruf im Alltag? Früher war Aspern ein Orchideenprojekt. Wenige Leute interessierten sich für die Geschehnisse in der Seestadt. Es wurde viel aus der Ferne kritisiert, aber es gab gleichzeitig auch große Freiräume. Diese Freiräume verschwinden sukzessive, weil das Projekt stärker in den Fokus rückt, weil nun viele AkteurInnen konkrete Ansprüche an die Entwicklung haben. Diese Erwartung mit den Projektplanungen unter einen Hut zu bringen ist nicht immer ganz einfach und kostet manchmal sehr viel Kraft.

Worauf warten Sie? Diese Frage habe ich mir noch nie gestellt.

Was empfinden Sie als bereichernd an der Figur/Rolle der Urban Practitioners? Die eigene Umwelt mitgestalten zu können ist einfach etwas Wundervolles.

Sind Sie eine Urban Practitioner? Bzw. wen würden Sie als Urban Practitioner bezeichnen? Ich nehme mal an, dass ich als solche gesehen werde, sonst hätte ich vermutlich nicht den Fragenkatalog bekommen.

Welche Veränderungen wünschen Sie sich? Was könnte die Arbeit der Urban Practitioners erleichtern? Genau das, was die Arbeit stets einfacher macht: Offenheit im Umgang miteinander; klares Darlegen von Motiven und Zielen.

Wie viel Planung braucht das Ungeplante? Wie ich schon bei der dritten Frage gesagt habe: Offenheit und Geschlossenheit – ich denke, es gibt kein allgemeines Rezept für die Ausgewogenheit zwischen beiden; ich würde also sagen: It depends, und genau das ist das Spannende!

studierte Raumplanung und Raum ordnung an der Technischen Universität Wien; seit 2006 Vorstand der Wien 3420 Aspern Development AG.

Und was als die größte Herausforderung? Das ausgewogene Wechselspiel von Offenheit und Geschlossenheit empfinde ich als besondere Herausforderung. Auf der einen Seite braucht es eine gewisse Stringenz, um das Projekt Aspern-Seestadt voranzutreiben und um wesentliche Merkmale nicht aus den Augen zu verlieren. Auf der anderen Seite sind Offenheit und Adaptionsfähigkeit notwendig, um Dinge auch einfach zuzulassen bzw. sein zu lassen. Da ist es immer wieder spannend, einen richtigen Weg zu finden.

Was bedeutet für Sie intensiv? Wenn mich etwas nicht mehr loslässt, vor allem emotional.

Claudia Nutz

Stadtplanung und Stadtentwicklung brauchen Prozesse, die nicht immer stringent sind. Manchmal auch Schleifen, Unterbrechungen, Wiederholungen und Irritationen – wie vermutlich überall anders auch. Dabei kann Kunst helfen. Einen konkreten Vorschlag kann ich nicht liefern – dafür bin ich dann vermutlich doch zu sehr Technikerin.

selbstständiger Raumplaner und Unternehmensberater; entwickelt intelligente Lebensräume und tragfähige Strukturen; zuvor in verantwortlicher Rolle in Aspern-Seestadt für Marketing, Kommunikation und Impulsnutzungen.

Das Herausfordernde des Alltags lässt sich für mich in der Aussage „Schauen wir mal“ zusammenfassen. Und damit meine ich nicht das bejahende „Schauen wir mal, was da entstehen könnte“, sondern das abwartende „Schauen wir mal …“. Eine zerstörerische mentale Haltung, gut genährt seit den Tagen der Monarchie, fälschlich als Wiener Gemütlichkeit beschmunzelt. Dabei ist es vielmehr eine über Generationen auf dem diplomatischen Parkett der Hauptstadt geschliffene Verweigerungsarbeit. Umso bereichernder ist es daher, die Grenzen des abwartenden Schauens zu überwinden und zu beobachten, dass hartgesottene Schauer wie auch urbane PraktikerInnen überrascht werden von der Kraft des Tuns. Und ganz besonders schön ist das Ergebnis, wenn Disziplinen sich irritiert austauschen oder gar verschwimmen zu einem größeren Ganzen, also am Ende mehr verstehen als vorher. Aus dem heraus betrachte ich die Frage, mit welchen Fragestellungen sich urbane PraktikerInnen befassen sollen, als unzulässig. Stadtplanung und Stadtentwicklung sind ein offenes Feld. So wie die Bevölkerung nicht uniform ist, sind es auch nicht die Stadträume und die Ansprüche an diese. Trifft eine Fragestellung hier zu, ist sie anderenorts aufgrund der Konstellationen nicht relevant. Für mich geht es also um ein aufmerksames Hinschauen und Hinhören. Wenn künstlerische Strategien das Sehen und Hören unterstützen, sind sie erfolgreich zur Anwendung gekommen, wenn sogar Impulse ausgelöst werden, dann wird Beifall geklatscht. Dabei wird oftmals der Misserfolg hinsichtlich seiner positiven Wirkungen unterschätzt. Was wäre denn das Bessere gewesen am Nicht-Probieren? Ich denke dabei sehr gerne an die positive Beurteilung einer Übungsarbeit an der TU Wien, die wir im Team bewältigen sollten, aber nach den Erhebungen abgebrochen hatten. Wir hatten zumindest be gründet, warum – und die Erfahrung gemacht, damit nicht zu scheitern.

und geklärt sind – seien es finanzielle, rechtliche, persönliche etc. –, hat scheinbar das Ungeplante Platz, sich zu entfalten. Und da möchte ich die Künstlerschaft nicht ausnehmen mit ihrem Hang zum Etablierten, marketinggetrieben und auch der Schauen-wir-mal-Haltung nicht abgeneigt. Aber ja, es geht doch – beispielsweise eine Immobilienmesse mit einer Kunstaktion anstatt mit einem Messestand zu bespielen war mit viel Überzeugungskraft verbunden, schließlich für alle Beteiligten ein neues Feld und ein Grundstein für weitere Impulsnutzungen in Aspern Seestadt. Ich bin da sehr optimistisch, dass die Stimmen von außerhalb der Spezies Stadtplanung besser gehört werden und dass diese auch wieder mutiger werden!

Josef Lueger

Welche Rollen sollen künstlerische Strategien in Bezug auf Stadtplanung und Stadtentwicklung einnehmen? Mit welchen Fragestellungen sollen sich Urban Practitioners befassen?

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artists’ intent was the conjecture the decomposing artwork would become compost, with the potentiality of providing fodder for new growth. Without predetermining the project’s outcome, they hoped it would be taken over by seedlings germinated either by the wind or planted by local gardeners—perhaps the bounty would be offered for transplanting throughout the future westward creeping development. The artwork occupied city-owned land, and the artists understood The Games Are Open’s future would inevitably be determined by capital and municipal neoliberal strategies. At times, the project was co-opted by urban planners as an example of sustainability—the wheat board bulldozer’s generative action was seen to further the mayor’s goal to become the greenest city in the world by 2020. When graffiti appeared, the Graffiti Management Program quickly assumed the role of a conscientious steward and removed it. Some local residents declared the sculpture to be in their backyard and could be overheard explaining to visitors how the work’s organic chaos offered relief from the groomed and overly planned and designed environment of the Village. Others chose to complain to the City’s hotline about this derelict eyesore that threatened to reduce the value of their property by virtue of its very existence. The piece was included on public art walking tours and urban planning symposia, and gradually occupied a place within the City’s public art collection as a temporary work of undetermined duration. In the Spring of 2013, the City approached Other Sights with an offer to bring resources to further the artwork’s greening. Cautious, but open, the offer was accepted and a thick layer of rich compost was added to all surfaces that fell within the front-end loader’s reach. The quality of the soil and exposure to southern light did not go unnoticed by a local gardener and within one week, the soil around

"The games are open" Vancouver 2010-2015 Folke Köbberling & Martin Kaltwasser September 2010

the sculpture’s perimeter was raked, and seeds were planted for what became a lush and varied vegetable garden. Artichokes, radishes, carrots, zucchini, heirloom tomatoes, kale, scarlet runner beans, sunflowers, lettuce and endive were tended with care and expertise. The audience for the decomposing artwork expanded beyond the visual arts community and those interested in urban planning and sustainability issues to include urban farming and gardening enthusiasts. Following the public’s gaze, the City responded by erecting a second fence around the artwork/garden. Voicing concern about falling parts and exposed screws, they effectively corralled the efforts of the rogue gardener. By October, the city offered another load of soil with the proposal to fill some of the voids in the structure maintaining there were signs of “nesting” and drug activity. With soil and backhoe arriving one day in advance of the agreed-upon date, the sculpture and garden were buried in a heavy-handed action that brought the project’s narrative to an abrupt and aggressive end. Over the three years of the project’s existence, the artwork’s form shifted from sculpture, to garden, to dirt pile, each transformation driven by the agendas of assumed owners. Presented within the context of land speculation that is embedded within Vancouver’s history of building up and tearing down, the sculpture’s iconic representation of a macho machine devolved from within—as the structure weakened, the artwork’s social value increased. The Games Are Open was subject to economic, biological, and social forces. Its vulnerability invited reinvention, not through the grand gesture of building a monument, but through the modest act of planting a seed.

The Games Are Open took the form of a larger-than-life bulldozer—with shovel down, it faced the expanse of interim lands awaiting future development along Vancouver’s South East False Creek. Artist team Folke Köbberling and Martin Kaltwasser began the sculpture’s construction three months after the 2010 Winter Olympic competitors vacated the neighboring Athletes Village. Marketed as Canada’s “greenest” housing development, the Village was transitioning from sporting dormitory to home. Piles of carpeting and stacks of paneling accumulated outside the empty buildings as evidence of the measures taken to protect the investments of condominium owners from the vagaries of the temporary lodgers. Kitchens, considered to be the most valuable of rooms with their stainless steel appliances, quartz countertops and Grohe faucets, were sheathed in wheat board, a new “environmentally friendly” material composed of 94% wheat and 6% neutral binder. Installed in January, removed in March, and liberated by Other Sights in June, 1,000 of these panels were used as the primary material in Köbberling and Kaltwasser’s ambitious, 9-week construction. Typically employed as a substrate for interior finishings, the wheat board took on a structural role in the depiction of a machine usually associated with fast and drastic change. Having researched the affects of soil microbes, inclement weather and the passing of time on the wheat board, the artists embraced its vulnerability by adding soil to some of the structure’s cavities in anticipation of eventual spills and collapse. Implicit to the

[ Barbara Cole ]

FOLKE KÖBBERLING / MARTIN KALTWASSER THE GAMES ARE OPEN

November 2013

August 2012

August 2014

March 2012

September 2010

Was empfinden Sie als bereichernd an der Figur/Rolle der Urban Practitioners? Bereits im Begriff „Urban Practitioner“ gelangt das Versprechen zum Ausdruck, aktiv an der Gestaltung von urbanen Lebensräumen mitzuwirken, sich praktisch einzumischen und nicht bloß in der Rezeption theoretischer Abhandlungen oder Modelle à la Henri Lefebvre, Michel de Certeau, Douglas Crimp, Rosalind Krauss, Suzanne Lacy, Charles Esch etcetera steckenzubleiben. Urban Practitioners nehmen hier eine andere/neue Realitäten schaffende Rolle ein, bilden quasi als Figur auch einen Missing Link. Nach wie vor passieren Stadtplanungen trotz der Erfahrung

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Worin besteht die größte Herausforderung? Die größte Herausforderung besteht wohl darin, ein Umdenken der StadtplanerInnen – die stark politische und lobbystische Interessen verfolgen und reale Bedürfnisse oft ignorieren – zu bewirken, damit ambitionierte, urban ausgerichtete Kunstprojekte gleich in die Planungsphase mit einbezogen werden. Fragen der sozialen Inklusion und Exklusion gewinnen hier ebenfalls zunehmend an Relevanz, ebenso entsprechende Öffentlichkeitsarbeit und verschiedene Partizipationsmodelle zu Fragen der Migration. Welche Rollen sollen künstlerische Strategien in Bezug auf Stadtplanung und Stadtentwicklung einnehmen? Mit welchen Fragestellungen sollen sich Urban Practitioners befassen? Konzepte, Methoden und Werkzeuge urbaner Praxis hängen natürlich auch stark mit der eigenen künstlerischen Praxis zusammen. Verschiedene Materialien, Räume oder Medien sowie Konzepte, Öffentlichkeiten, Beziehungen, Kommunikationsfaktoren, Soziotope und politische Intentionen können hier aufeinanderprallen, ebenso wie Prozesse des Forschens und Suchens. In der eigenen Positionierung als Urban Practitioner lauern politische Fragestellungen zur eigenen Haltung und Lebenspraxis, ebenso zum eigenen Zugang gegenüber postliberalistischen Symptomen oder Prozessen einer sich anbahnenden Postdemokratie. Fragen der Verweigerung, der Aversionen und der Selbstverpflichtung zu einer gewissen Widerständigkeit, Selbstverantwortung und

Autonomie gilt es zu diskutieren. Prozesse der Wertfindung verlangen auch nach einer ethischen Haltung in der Auslotung ästhetischer, politischer und künstlerischer Strategien.

Wichtig wäre auch ein Pool von finanziellen Ressourcen, auf den schnell bzw. in einem unkomplizierten Verfahren zugegriffen werden kann, um kurzfristig Projekte zu realisieren.

Welche Themen finden Sie aufgrund Ihrer beruflichen Erfahrung besonders relevant für die Gesellschaft, die Öffentlichkeit, den öffentlichen Raum? Erfahrungen aus der eigenen kuratorischen und künstlerischen Praxis zeigen, dass es die eigenen Überlegungen zur Produktion von öffentlichem Raum ständig aufgrund sich verändernder Bedingungen und Verhältnisse zu hinterfragen und auf ihre Wirksamkeit zu analysieren und zu überprüfen gilt: Themen der Kommunikation, Bewusstseinsbildungsprozesse im Umgang mit den uns zur Verfügung stehenden Ressourcen, Guerilla Gardening zur Selbstversorgung gegenüber immer teurer werdenden Lebenshaltungskosten, das Umbesetzen von bereits als kommerzielle Zonen definierten Räumen oder das Verlangen nach autofreien Zonen. Außerdem die Fragen, wie für einkommensschwache Bevölkerungsschichten, Obdachlose, Menschen, die auf der Straße leben, gute Bedingungen geschaffen werden können, sind sicher gegenwärtige Herausforderungen in der Auseinandersetzung mit öffentlichem Raum.

Sind Sie eine Urban Practitioner? Bzw. wen würden Sie als Urban Practitioner bezeichnen? Nach Beantwortung der vorhergehenden Fragen empfinde ich mich durchaus als Urban Practitioner. Wobei nun der Eigenanspruch existiert, aktiver zu werden, Aufmerksamkeitsökonomien in Hinblick auf die Möglichkeiten zur Produktion von urbanem, öffentlichem Raum zu verstärken. Katharina Blass von Public Space Niederösterreich erlebe ich durch ihre starke Vermittlungsarbeit mit niederösterreichischen StadtvertreterInnen und ArchitektInnen und ihre Anregung zu strukturellen Veränderungen bereits in der Planungsphase von neuen Stadtgebieten oder Wohnanlagen als Urban Practitioner.

Worauf warten Sie? Warten entspricht nicht meinem Realitätsverständnis, der dialogische, transitorische, produzierende Prozess neuer Bedeutungs- und Realisationsmöglichkeiten ist ein permanenter, andauernder, kontinuierlicher.

Was bedeutet für Sie intensiv? Intensiv bedeutet für mich, hier und jetzt in Aktion treten zu können. Immer über das aktive oder latente Potenzial zu verfügen, in Situationen gestalterisch einzugreifen, mitzuwirken, neue Praktiken zu entwickeln, mich aktiv zu beteiligen. Kurzum zum richtigen Zeitpunkt am richtigen Ort zu sein oder es so zu empfinden. Denkprozesse und Handlungsbedarf in Schwingung zu setzen. Welche Veränderungen wünschen Sie sich? Was könnte die Arbeit der Urban Practitioners erleichtern? Erleichterung brächten sicher Plattformen, durch die kritische Modelle in ihren Entwicklungsphasen aufeinandertreffen, diskutiert werden, ebenso wie die Vernetzung verschiedener Diskussions- und Praxisformate, die sich von den Kanälen konventioneller Institutionen unterscheiden, gut dotierte Forschungsund Publikationsprojekte, experimentelle Labors.

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Wie viel Planung braucht das Ungeplante? Spontanes, dynamisches und experimentelles Agieren eröffnet in der Produktion von Räumen neue Modelle, bewirkt eine Ausweitung des Diskurses, ermöglicht eine direkte Auseinandersetzung. Phasen, in welchen die Konzepte, Dinge und Realitäten zueinander in Beziehung gesetzt werden, können nach Ablauf einer gewissen Zeitperiode durchaus auch planerische Eingriffe benötigen. Optimal ist ein Spannungsfeld aus geplanten und ungeplanten Abläufen: die Möglichkeit, auch dem „Zufall“ eine Chance zu geben.

seit 2013 Mitglied Gutachtergremium Public Art Niederösterreich, 2013/2014 Gastprofessorin Universität für Angewandte Kunst, Lektorin Kunstuniversität Linz. Zahlreiche Projekte Kunst im öffentlichen Raum u.a. für Fluc, Wien Praterstern, KÖR, Public Art Niederösterreich, Vienna Artweek, Künstlerhaus, Europart, Kunstdrogerie. Künstlerische Projekte im öffentlichen Raum als Female Obsession. Kunstkritikerin.

Was erscheint Ihnen besonders schwierig an Ihrem Beruf im Alltag? Wenn ich mich in der Rolle bzw. Funktion einer Urban Practitioner sehe, besteht das Anforderungsprofil daraus, permanent in existierende urbane Welten einzugreifen und urbane Räume zu produzieren. Dieses Unterfangen starteten wir durch unsere Kunstaktionen im Fluc am Praterstern 2002. Nicht nur, dass mit dem Fluc durch seine Betreiber Martin Wagner und Joachim Bock ein Kunst- und Veranstaltungsort geschaffen wurde, der im urbanen Stadtbild durch die von Klaus Stattmann gestaltete Architektur sichtbar ist, es finden hier auch regelmäßig Projekte statt, die sich mit urbanen Praktiken von Kunst befassen. Es gab urbane Interventionen mit Projekten wie „Transformer 1“ (2005), „Artmapping I“, „Urban Art- and Soundscapes“ (2006), „Artmapping II“ (2007), „Urban Signs – Local Strategies“ (2008), „Urban Signs – Local Strategies Continued“ (2009), „Eine Idee von Gemeinschaft“ (2010), „Kunst im Außendienst. Ein uneingelöstes Versprechen?“ (2013), „Wie wir leben wollen“ (2013) oder „You don’t know me“ (2013) rund um das Fluc, die sich teils zu urbanen Environments entwickelten. Nach wie vor wird allerdings von der Stadtverwaltung und von den StadtplanerInnen nicht das Potenzial, das in derartigen Projekten liegt, gesehen. Viele Aktivitäten hängen davon ab, selbst Initiative zu ergreifen, um die eigenen Handlungsspielräume zu erweitern und neue, quasi alternative Realitäten gegenüber dem neoliberalen Fiasko gegenwärtiger westlicher Kulturpolitiken zu entwickeln. Hier geht es darum, entsprechende strukturelle Akzente zu setzen, die über eine Expan sion von Kunst in den urbanen Außenraum hinausgehen. Fragen nach der auch performativen Mitgestaltung am Urban Environment und zur Produktion gegenwärtiger Kultur brennen auf der Zunge.

unzähliger Fehlentwicklungen auf dem Schreibtisch bzw. werden Nutzungen durch verschiedene Interessensgruppierungen oder soziale, psychologische Dynamiken in der architektonischen Planung oft ausgeblendet, wird mehr nach Kostenfaktoren und politischem Lobbyismus vorgegangen. StadtplanerInnen sollten Urban Practitioners und deren Erfahrung viel intensiver bereits in den Anfangsstadien einbeziehen. Oft werden Urban Practitioners zu spät engagiert, wenn sich bereits durch Mängel oder Konflikte zeigt, dass wichtige Aspekte des menschlichen Zusammenlebens nicht berücksichtigt wurden. Im Vorlauf, wenn Gebiete der geplanten Stadtentwicklungen noch brachliegen, kommt es durchaus immer wieder zu ambitionierten Kunstprojekten. In Wien werden durch Kunst im öffentlichen Raum an diesen Orten Projekte initiiert. Doch wichtig wäre auch hier, langfristige Projekte gemeinsam mit Urban Practitioners zu installieren. Das Verfahren, durch Einreichungen Vorschläge zu unterbreiten, greift dabei teilweise zu kurz.

Ursula Maria Probst

Erich Streichsbier

Martina Taig

Aus dem Nichts einen ersten Gedanken, eine Vision, einen Prozess in Gang zu setzen, der oft erst nach Jahren physisch greifbare Realität schafft oder bestehende Realität zum scheinbar – im Idealfall tatsächlich – Positiven verändert; Alltag von StadtplanerInnen. Urban Practitioners sind für mich weniger Personen als eine Tendenz hin zu dieser Veränderung, eine aufgeladene Wolke, die in unterschiedlichem Kontext unterschiedliche Gestalt annimmt: Manchmal ist der/die Urban Practitioner vielleicht Künstler oder Künstlerin, manchmal Architekt oder Stadtplanerin, subversive Bürgerin oder Politiker, doch auch beschimpftes Kunstwerk der Nachbarschaft, die Sitzbank im Badeteich. Oder handelt es sich vielmehr um den von ästhetischen, sozialen, ökonomischen, politischen, technischen, ökologischen und kulturellen Aspekten, Meinungen, Bedeutungen, Diskussionen und Handlungen aufgeladenen Nebel zwischen all dem, was plötzlich Richtung und Form annimmt, wenn einer des Weges kommt, der innehält, ihn beobachtet, ihn verstehen und beschreiben möchte? Aus dieser Sicht kann jeder Künstler, jede Künstlerin, die Bürgerin oder der Politiker, der Architektin oder die Stadtplanerin, jedes beliebige Setting aus Personen, Objekten und Gegebenheiten dem/der Urban Practitioner Ausdruck und darüber hinaus physisch Gestalt verleihen … Wesentlich für das Entstehen von Urban Practitioners und ihre Durchschlagskraft erscheint mir jedenfalls die Übereinkunft aller, sie vorbehaltlos als sich ständig ändernde Wesen anzunehmen, die chaotisch, zerstörerisch, kontroversiell, ja zornig auftreten können, doch stets das Gute wollen, das kompromisslos in seinem Durst nach Kreativität und Veränderung ist, und – den Worten Laotses gefolgt – „eine strömende Kraft freisetzt, die im Rücken das Dunkle hat und nach Licht strebt“. Die Frage, wie viel Planung das Ungeplante braucht, stellen Urban Practitioners – immer neu.

Was erscheint Ihnen besonders schwierig an Ihrem Beruf im Alltag? Die Nicht-Information bei vielen Dingen und die rechtzeitige Vernetzung mit den richtigen Menschen und Fragestellungen. Was empfinden Sie als bereichernd an der Figur/Rolle der Urban Practitioners? Den Mehrwert, den die Arbeit der Urban Practitioners generieren kann ohne zusätzlichen – zumindest finanziellen – Aufwand, wenn ihre Funktion und ihr Potenzial rechtzeitig mitgedacht werden. Und was als die größte Herausforderung? Die Klärung und Definition der Rolle der Urban Practitioners und ihres Arbeitsfeldes sowie ihre Einbindung in bestehende Strukturen der Stadtentwicklung und -planung.

Welche Veränderungen wünschen Sie sich? Was könnte die Arbeit der Urban Practitioners erleichtern? Ein stärkeres Bewusstsein für unsere Arbeit und die Zusammenhänge von Gesellschaft und Kunst und Kultur. Sind Sie eine Urban Practitioner? Bzw. wen würden Sie als Urban Practitioner bezeichnen? Da wir für den städtischen Raum zuständig sind, könnten wir dazugezählt werden. Es kommt jeweils auf die Definition an. Wie viel Planung braucht das Ungeplante? Das Ungeplante benötigt zumindest eindeutige Rahmenbedingungen und auch Abgrenzungen. Innerhalb dieses Rahmens darf und sollte auch Ungeplantes entstehen und geschehen.

ist Geschäftsführerin der Kunst im öffentlichen Raum GmbH, Wien. http://www.koer.or.at

Welche Rollen sollen künstlerische Strategien in Bezug auf Stadtplanung und Stadtentwicklung einnehmen? Mit welchen Fragestellungen sollen sich Urban Practitioners befassen? Sie können auf soziale Fragestellungen aufmerksam machen, etwas thematisieren, Menschen miteinander in Kontakt bringen und eine Kommunikation entstehen lassen. Künstlerische Strategien können vermittelnd wirken und auch einfach nur etwas in den Raum stellen – ohne Funktion.

Magistrat der Stadt Wien –MA 19, Architektur und Stadtgestaltung – Generelle Planung und Grundlagen forschung

Martina Taig

Welche Themen finden Sie aufgrund Ihrer beruflichen Erfahrung besonders relevant für die Gesellschaft, die Öffentlichkeit, den öffentlichen Raum? Wie können die unterschiedlichen Bedürfnisse in z. B. sozialer, räumlicher, religiöser, gesellschaftlicher Hinsicht am optimalsten aufeinander abgestimmt werden? Wie geht man mit dem öffentlichen Raum am besten um? Was soll öffentlich thematisiert und wo soll einfach nur Raum gelassen werden? Was darf auch einfach nur sein, ohne bestimmte Funktionen zu erfüllen?

DI Erich Streichsbier

Worauf warten Sie? Wir warten nicht, wir tun schon. Und versuchen, durch unsere Arbeit und die bisherigen Projekte ein Bewusstsein für das, was Kunst im öffentlichen Raum sein kann, zu schaffen. Was bedeutet für Sie intensiv? Unter die Oberfläche zu gehen und nicht nur einen Teilbereich zu bedenken.

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www.urban-matters.org URBAN MATTERS RECONSIDERED: FOR SOCIETAL ENGAGEMENT IN URBAN DEVELOPMENT [ Barbara Holub, Karin Reisinger ] In light of global change, societal challenges that range even to questions of sheer survival, and violent disturbances in many parts of the world, we see a need to raise several questions: What can art do for society? How can art engage in urban development? How can the diversity and multitude of new artistic tools and approaches contribute to the development of planning strategies able to counteract a society dominated by neoliberal interests? What can we—geographically located in Central Europe and thus unavoidably participants of a Western art and urban development discourse—learn from other fields of art-based resistance against neoliberalism and social exclusion? When should we act from a position situated within dominant urban planning practices, and when should we act from without? How can we reverse the gaze?

www.urban-matters.org has been conceived and established by Barbara Holub as a project platform presenting the major elements of her research project “Planning Unplanned: Towards a New Positioning of Art in the Context of Urban Development”, hosted by Christine Hohenbüchler (Head of the Institute of Art and Design at the Vienna University of Technology). Further research team: Bernadette Krejs (until 2012) and Karin Reisinger.

see p. 42

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www.urban-matters.org was initiated as part of the “Planning Unplanned” research project in order to address the need to provide a range of unique projects implementing artistic tools and new urban strategies. Analyzing the particular goals and constraints in question is a very important way of learning from other contexts. Currently, 43 projects from all over the world are presented on www.urban-matters.org {01}, not including the contributions of this publication. www.urban-matters.org unites a variety of (public) art and urbanism projects, programs, and organizations that address urban issues and have been developed in diverse cultural and geopolitical backgrounds, each reacting to its specific context in a socially responsible, anti-hegemonial, and counter-neoliberal manner. By locating and unveiling the interdependencies of the various practices, the most pressing urban issues can be treated with the precision necessary to take the individual parameters and elements of the projects into account. Tools and methods from the crossroads of art, urban planning, political activism, and theory receive the attention they deserve and are discussed from a transdisciplinary perspective. Showing them on one map puts them in relation to each other, thus offering a specific basis for analysis. Since the parameters are obviously so different, conventional methods of analysis and categorization cannot be employed. This is where artistic methods come in, such as “shifting the context” or “shifting roles” {02}, thus creating new approaches through learning from other experiences and knowledge. www.urban-matters.org highlights the relevance of each specific context in terms of the overall situation, including political parameters, commissioning processes, social environment, and legal framework. Project budgets are listed, on the one hand, in order to provide insight into project dimensions and, on the other hand, to raise the issue of how input (financial and time resources) and output (achievements) cannot always be considered in a direct relationship. The gap between the need to find ways to enable comparison and create references, yet still maintain the individuality of artistic-urbanistic approaches, requires new methods of analysis and the

Urban Matters Reconsidered

unlearning of known criteria. This also applies to the act of evaluation: Whom and whose interests does the evaluation serve? Who are the protagonists of www.urban-matters.org? Many other websites have already created databases of high-quality projects that address the embattled field of art and planning. The starting point of www.urbanmatters.org was thus to differentiate from other collections in several ways. Instead of providing just another overview of projects dealing with urban issues and spatial practices, www.urban-matters.org focuses on carefully extracting the learned experience and developing criteria so that the tools and strategies of the projects can serve as a reference for developing projects in other contexts, but facing similar problems. {03} The projects presented are of diverse scales. Oftentimes, the methods of small-scale projects can provide approaches that are applicable to large-scale contexts although the parameters for decision-making in a large-scale context are often determined by complex political conditions, which can render the taking of innovative steps extremely difficult. The main selection criterion for the projects is their aim to have a long-term impact on their immediate or broader spatial or socio-political context. As mentioned before, it is neither the funding, nor the spatial situation, nor the dimension of the project alone that predefines the ultimate impact. Short-term urban interventions with no long-term implications are not the focus of www.urban-matters.org, unless they engage in a longer-term process, working with methods such as repetition (returning to the same situation over time) or establishing organizations aimed at achieving change in the long term. During the past 10-15 years, a great number of short-term urban interventions have been realized throughout the world. Repeatedly appeasing and masking the need for profound change, such projects support and pursue the dominant system as a matter of fact. For this reason, www.urban-matters. org focuses its attention on those practices and organizations that form a basis for developing new and specific strategies and/or subverting existing conditions. Projects that initially look like “conventional” public art projects can be part of this growing overview of projects, as long as they aim to change urban societal conditions and the awareness thereof over time. But where does one draw the line? Of course, the borders between a project’s long and short-term impact are fluid to a certain extent—as is the fluidity of artistic research methods. The editors make no attempt to disguise the fact that the selected projects are subject to interpretation. The criteria are continuously adapted to changing production conditions, urban and regional challenges, and political context. An interactive world map shows the variety of localities and contexts the projects are based within. Color-coded for easy orientation, information is provided about the different formats used. www.urban-matters.org collects information and data on public art organizations, institutions, biennials, cultural capitals, and above all on projects and initiatives established by individuals that deal directly with urban issues. www.urban-matters.org provides authors with an opportunity to position their artistic practices by exploring the diverse and often conflictual and ambivalent interests as potential for the new role of urban practitioner. A discourse based on Western perspectives still determines what is perceived as being an innovative concept in the field of art and urbanism. Yet the potential to learn from different contexts, ones often enmeshed in urban dilemmas or even afflicted by violent political or environmental conflict, is highly underestimated. Artists and urban practitioners have quietly and

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Barbara Holub, Karin Reisinger

The necessary tools for providing this aspect will be included in the next phase as a relaunch of the website.

URBAN CURATORS AT WORK— A REAL-IMAGINED HISTORIOGRAPHY [ Elke Krasny ] Urban curating is not a new field. However, one is not likely to find many museums, universities, art academies, city administrations, or urban design studios seeking to fill an open position with an urban curator. Therefore, one can only imagine what such a job description would actually entail. However, the goal of my reflections here is not to arrive at a most wanted list of skills for a theoretical employment ad. Rather, it is my aim to describe the position of the urban curator as one that is conceptually open, marked by the politics of dis/continuous self-re/invention. The fact that this job and its description are either inexistent or, at best, vague works to its advantage. It does not mean that there isn’t any work out there in the contemporary global cities. Quite on the contrary, urban curatorial labor is much needed. This need suggests the plethora of work to be done. It is of importance to conceptualize this need for urban curatorial work to remain forever incomplete. By keeping the position open, in both theory and practice, it becomes a programmatic equivalent to urban transformation processes that are permanently ongoing in different scales and different temporalities, as well as to the eternal changes of social evolution. The openness is therefore structural, not temporal. Keeping the position open makes opening, relating, and positioning part of the urban curating job. An urban curator’s work is at best never done and dis/continuously incomplete. The project of a real-imagined historiography of urban curating is programmatic. Central to its writing is the exploration of the relationships between its conceptual openness and its specific position. Analytical precision and associative imagination are indispensable to turning such a historiographical project into an activist practice of urban curatorship. This will allow for growing relationships, both temporally and spatially. Such a historiography is based on the real-imagined mapping of an expanding cartography of practices. These include strong contradictions, conflicting agonies, radical inclusions, and surprising alliances. Urban curatorial labor, the way I understand it, extends across time zones and multiple geographies, aiming to overcome austerity measures and precarious conditions. More often than not, it extends, entering into unusual alliances and mobilizing personal networks. Urban curatorial labor forges connections between the aesthetic, the economic, the cultural, the social, and the political. In short, it relates to the urban from within. Such a change-making and engaged relationship is a far cry from the relational practices that were celebrated in curator Nicolas Bourriaud’s influential book and exhibition. Art historian Amelia Jones has repeatedly pointed out that the celebratory mood of relationality in the 1990s consciously omitted the historical precedents found in performative and feminist practices of the 1960s and 1970s.

www.urban-matters.org

See, e.g., Ala Plástica (Argentina): http://urban-matters.org/ organisations/ala-plastica

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effectively acquired their own strategies {04} for approaching specific socio-urban issues, ones often separate from the prevalent discursive awareness. Local correspondents based in various parts of the world will therefore expand the geographical range of the projects presented. These correspondents will report on additional projects that are still underrepresented in the public awareness of the field of urban practice and theory. www.urban-matters.org addresses and aims at actively engaging a worldwide audience of artists, urbanists, urban planning departments, and experts from related fields (urban geographers, critical economists, sociologists, etc.) in a process of re-thinking urban practices. The projects, together with interviews, texts, and workshop reports create an international network for enhancing exchange and mutual (un)learning. This rhizomatic accumulation of projects with innate tools, tactics, and strategies contributes to “unplanning” and pursues the core goals of urban-matters.org: changing planning systems by encompassing a larger societal context, changing processes and the roles of people involved, and accrediting art and artistic-urbanistic strategies with their (still underrecognized) potential for urban and societal innovation—thus changing local realities and, ultimately, reality on a broader scale.

Urban Matters Reconsidered—Barbara Holub, Karin Reisinger

While many critics, from Nicolas Bourriaud to Jan Verwoert and Simon O’Sullivan, have noted the rise of this interest in activating the relationality involved in processes of making and viewing art, few have connected

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Urban Curators at Work—Elke Krasny

relationality either to these historical precedents (viz., the works of media performative artists such as Allan Kaprow, Carolee Schneemann, Bruce Naumann, Suzanne Lacy, Helio Oiticica, VALIE EXPORT, and many, many others since the 1960s) or to the absolutely essential context of the end of the European political colonization of the so-called third world, the rise of the rights movements, and the impact of identity politics on Euro-American art discourse and practice since 1960. It is not an accident that so many artists activating a relational approach since that time were invested in the rights movements. Not surprisingly, this tendency to ignore these precedents has led to the formation of new micro-canons that, once again, leave out the work that is the most threatening, messy, and uncontainable according to these new models of what curator Nicolas Bourriaud termed “relational aesthetics” in an influential exhibition and book by this title in the late 1990s. {01}

Jones, 2012, pp. 235–236.

Chakrabarty, 2000, p. xiii.

Foucault, 1984: http://foucault. info/documents/heterotopia/foucault. heterotopia.en.html

See Dipesh Chakrabarty, Provincializing Europe. Postcolonial Thought and Historical Difference, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000.

Braidotti, 2011, p. 5.

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Central to my concept of an expanded and extended urban curatorial labor is Jones’ insistence on the precedents of artistic relationality from the 1960s and 1970s, and artist involvement in the rights movement and struggles of decolonization. I understand urban curating as a radical relational practice, which can take on the form of art, of communication, of building, of discourse, of community organizing, of legal action, of supportive self-organization, of exhibition making, of protest, or of any other form relevant to the case at hand. This radical relationality abounds with the aesthetic and political consciousness of solidarity and its far-reaching alignment with the struggle against urban injustice and social movements striving for urban redistribution. It connects back to anti-imperialism and anti-colonialism, and looks forward to the production of an urban citizenship that includes aesthetic, poetic, or even fictional practices. Relationality understood in this way, and again I am turning to Amelia Jones here, is much more in alignment with the relationality of Edouard Glissant. In his Poetics of Relation, published in French in 1990 and translated into English in 1997, Glissant writes from a specific place, and I am following Dipesh Chakrabarty here, one that asks “a question about how thought was related to place.” {02} The relation to the place from where one writes is therefore crucial. Glissant wrote in and from the French-Caribbean reality, making understood that identities are always based on relations to their past, present, and toward a self-defined future. Caribbean creolization is thus a result of relationships as opposed to isolation. Relationality functions as the relay between the construction of identity, the production of space, the politics of power, and their respective interrelatedness. In his 1967 lecture Des Espaces Autres, Michel Foucault introduced his era as “one in which space takes for us the form of relation among sites. (…) We live inside a set of relations that delineates sites which are irreducible to one another and absolutely not superimposable on one another.” {03} Conventionally, the historiography of Western philosophy, or theory for that matter, lacks cartography. Neither place nor time are mapped onto historiographies of thought. How thought relates to place is rarely historicized or “provincialized” {04} when it comes to Western thinkers like Foucault, whose “Des Espaces Autres” is distinguished by references to his experiences in Tunis, where he taught from 1966 to 1968. In the 1990s, feminist philosopher Rosi Braidotti introduced the concept of a nomadic subject, which is of interest here, since it introduces relationality both between subjects and to place and date. Braidotti states, “Mainstream subject positions have to be challenged in relations to and interaction with the marginal subjects.” {05} Feminist strategies and anti-racist politics based on the relations between mainstream

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subject positions and marginal subjects are of importance for my definition of urban curatorial work as one of conceptual openness. Equally important is Braidotti’s take on cartography, which I understand to be a suggestion of how to write and conceptualize a historiography. How thought and action relate to place is crucial: I think that many of the things I write are cartographies, that is to say, maps of positioning: a sort of intellectual landscape gardening that gives me a horizon, a frame of reference within which I can take my bearings, move about, and set up my own theoretical tent. {06} In referring to her theoretical work, Braidotti chooses activities that are actually spatial practices, such as gardening or setting up a tent. This creates an interesting relation to practices of urban curatorial labor, as well as an interesting tension to the politics of spatial practices and their image regimes. The theoretical tent allows me to take us to very real refugee camps and urban protest sites. In September 2013, Initiative Kunst_Kultur | Stop Deportation! (Initiative Art_Culture | Stop Deportation!) declared its solidarity with the Refugee Camp Vienna. A working group of educators and students at the Academy of Fine Arts Vienna established an initiative that I see as being a good example of involved urban curatorial labor. {07} Braidotti’s intellectual landscape gardening allows me to take us to urban gardening and localized agriculture: Here, I am hinting at the inevitable formation of a parallel urban world. What was imagined by cyber-punk novelists more than twenty years ago is now becoming a palpable reality: an urban world with parallel economies, underground solidarities, collective service exchanges, alternative housing models, cooperative factories, localized agriculture, and alternative educational structures. {08} Intellectual landscape gardening also allows me to take us to my own curatorial work on Hands-On Urbanism 1850–2012. The Right to Green, a transnational historiography of urban self-organization looked at through the lens of urban gardening and urban farming. This historiographical mapping traced radical alliance practices between activists, city administrators, architects, artists, marginalized subjects, theorists, urban planners, and many others. {09} Practicing the historiography of urban curating the way I just introduced it here is an activity that lies somewhere between theory and practice and allows for associations both in terms of mental connection and in terms of organized bodies of people. It is an ongoing activity that creates extended relations, forges propositional alliances, and shares associations over time and place. Let me set out to explain how the conceptually open position and the notion that thought relates to place impact one another. I do want to point out that this openness is not at all seen here as yet another rendering of the “anything goes” mentality, but rather as an, at times, most unbending, conflicting, uncompromising requirement of constant openness to the demands of specificity. Yet, specificity is marked by change. I see the urban public and its spaces to be the new borderlands in which contemporary cityness is both produced and negotiated. Because it should always be locally specific, yet aware of both the global and the local in its ongoing struggles of recontextualization within the new urban borderlands of the public, the

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Braidotti, 2011, p. 46.

In an e-mail dated September 20, 2013, Cathrin Seefranz, who is part of kültür gemma!, a program for migrant cultural production in Vienna, pointed out rebelodrom’s most surprising affective relations and alliances. On the occasion of the opening of rebelodrom as part of the Wienwoche festival, months of shared political and affective labor lead to the most unexpected and seemingly impossible alliances: Sharo Khan from Protest-Servitenkloster, Super Puta Pradastern, the Mindji Panthers, the delegates of PPÖ and many others supported Mohammad Atef Wazir’s Pakistani art of singing. See also: http://rebelodrom.blogspot. co.at/p/rebelodrom.html

Miguel Robles-Duran, 2012, p. 56.

09 See Elke Krasny, Architekturzentrum Wien (eds.), Hands-On Urbanism 1850–2012. The Right to Green, Hongkong mccm creations, 2012.

Respect Favelas, during Art Basel, June 2013.

commons, and shared issues of spatial justice, the concept of urban curating must be kept open throughout. This openness is therefore, more than anything, understood to be programmatic. Urban curating not only requires an understanding of how thought relates to place, but of how to put thought in relation to place, and of how this relates to spatial practice. A central issue of spatial practice is working out how to relate not only thought in terms of place, but equally thought in relation to time. The urban state of affairs is one of transformation. Consequently, a vigilant altering and changing of one’s practice is required in order to deal with the spatial politics and chronopolitics at work in urban transformation processes. Urban curatorial labor expands the production of communality and conviviality amidst conflictive and agonistic struggles. One most certainly cannot deny that urban curators and their ways of working are always inextricably intertwined with local and temporal specificities. This entanglement with the state of affairs they address makes urban curators, above all, contemporary agents. They are thinking about the present they are about to become deeply involved with and which they aim to change. Why then do I suggest a real-imagined historiography for a practice deeply rooted and firmly entrenched in the urban transformation of the present time? This propositioned historiography attests to my belief that intellectual alignments and friendly alliances can be forged from a radical position of transhistoricity. So, the politics of urban curating become an issue of rehearsing relations and nourishing ideas of how these relationships can transgress the given. Past transgressions can become a resource to be learned from. Real-imagined historiography as a radical method of urban curating then becomes, in turn, part of the present again. It makes the past become part of the present time, in order to enable the imagining of what can be gleaned and learned from past transgressions and alliances. This is where I see historiography entering, as an axis of change. I can easily imagine urban curators at work while I sit at my kitchen table and write this text. I can imagine them at work elsewhere, and at a different time. My text joins in on their work. I can imagine urban curators in the future reading my text while they are sitting at their kitchen tables. From these kitchen tables, the ideas travel on to the cities. Change is brought about through thought, analysis, words, actions, and

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manifestations, ultimately becoming part of the production of spaces. The connections that are made will stretch across time and space. Creating a history of urban curating that is longer than one might ever have anticipated is a way of building affiliations for change and affecting affinities with change. The little hyphen joining the real and the imagined in my real-imagined historiography is a fragile, yet sturdy pathway that crosses back and forth between the possible and the impossible. This crossing strongly represents an overcoming of the restrictions of the present time. It functions as an invitational gesture to imagining alignments with the past. This leads to extended relations with imagined, at times even fictional, companions. The hyphen in my real-imagined historiography becomes the instrument that forms provisional groupings of new urban constellations through curatorial work. Let me now turn to the sketching of some of the turning points in urban curatorial activity relevant to my historiographical proposition. The first urban curator I will discuss is Jane Addams, a pioneer settlement social reformer, women’s rights campaigner, and later Nobel Peace Prize laureate. Together with Ellen Gates Starr, she founded the first settlement house in the U.S. The year of 1889 witnessed the opening of Hull House, with residents moving into the poorest neighborhood of Chicago, at the time the fastest growing city in the world, marked by industrialization, immigration, and social tension. Residents became involved in and actively engaged with their neighborhood, with the city of Chicago, with a wider network of dedicated intellectuals across the U.S., and with a transnational exchange of like-minded intellectuals and activists in London. After having read about a settlement house, Addams went on a study visit to the very first of its kind, Toynbee Hall in London, where residents actively worked to provide relief from poverty and distress. In 1895, the Hull House Maps and Papers, a collection of writings by the residents of Hull House, was first published. The book was reissued in 2007, with an introduction by Rima Lunin Schultz. The collection of documents includes maps delineating the correlation between income and the national origins of immigrants. At that time, Chicago was the most multi-ethnic city in the world. The maps became a tool representing both sociologic research and political change. The team of ten authors—eight women and two men—not only produced maps but also essays on subjects such as exploitation by local employers, child labor, and the role of art in working class neighborhoods. In her contribution to Hull House Maps and Papers, titled “The Settlement as a Factor in the Labor Movement”, Addams wrote: One man or a group of men sometimes reveal to their contemporaries a higher conscience by simply incorporating into the deed what has been before but a philosophic proposition. By this deed the common code of ethics is stretched to a higher point. […] The settlement is pledged to insist upon the unity of life, to gather to itself the sense of righteousness to be found in its neighborhood, and as far as possible in its city; to work towards the betterment not of one kind of people or class of people, but for the common good. {10} Jane Addam’s work at Hull House was based on the cornerstones of residence, research, reform, activist involvement in spatial and labor issues, and art. These I see as trans-historical elements from which current urban curating can be understood. Urban curating requires local involvement and conceptually driven research in order to make a difference. The positioning of the urban

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Jane Addams, 1895, p. 184.

curator-in-residence with a research-based practice aimed at forming and re-forming, aligned with issues of spatial justice, labor, and the role of art, emerges as a contemporary proposition from the past. Nearly a century later, in 1993, feminist artist Suzanne Lacy conceived of a public art project honoring the memory of Jane Addams. Its realization was based on a coalition with a large number of local communities. As Lacy described it, Full Circle: Monuments to Women created “instant monuments”. A hundred limestone blocks were positioned throughout Chicago’s downtown district, the Loop. Each of the blocks had a brass plaque with the name of one of a hundred women chosen by local communities in a two-year collective process. Addams’s work had literally “come full circle” to mark public urban space. Lacy aimed to remember “women who first came to service when they needed the support and stayed to assist others”. As a second part of her work, Lacy intended to perform a service to the community, such as voluntary work in a hostel for the homeless, using the aesthetic means of performance. This part remained unrealized. The third part of the work was an international dinner party under the name Dinner at Jane’s in the Hull House Museum, site of the original settlement. In the 1995 catalog Culture in Action, Lacy emphasizes that: “Service”, an inadequate word, […] still seems the best way to describe a quality of supporting, nurturing, correcting injustice, promoting equality […]. Often service smacks of essentialism. […] That is dangerous territory, for theoretical reasons as well as because it suggests that women can and, therefore, must serve. Nevertheless, it still seems the best word to describe a sense of freely embraced responsibility for nurturing life […] and the activism that goes with that responsibility. {11}

Suzanne Lacy, 1995, p. 69. Quoted in Culture in Action.

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Lacy’s work as an artist allows me to speak of the strategies, tactics, and practices that I find pertinent to the practice of urban curating. Lacy emphasizes a kind of service that allows for a close link to curating and its Latin root curare, to take care of, to look after, to treat, and also to edit. All these activities are pertinent, not only to Lacy’s Full Circle: Monuments to Women, but in more general terms to what I would like to draw into the historiographical proposition of urban curating. From the mid-1990s onwards, a number of artists and architects actively working with public space both in Japan and in Europe referred to their emerging practice as urban curating. Together with artist Jeanne van Heeswjik, architect Raoul Bunschoten and CHORA developed a new profile for the professional architect as urban curator, in which it would be a requirement that architects actively seek engagement in the practice of participation and public debate. In 2001, Raoul Bunschoten and CHORA authored a retrospective of this new practice of urban curating and its cultural and political ambitions, entitled Urban Flotsam: Stirring the City. The retrospective functioned both as a claim and a proposal. In 2007, Meike Schalk, a practitioner of architecture and art in the public space and specialist in critical studies and urban theory, published her seminal essay “Urban Curating: A Critical Practice Towards Greater Connectedness”, in the volume Altering Practices. Feminist Politics and Poetics of Space, edited by Doina Petrescu. My essay “Ma(r)king a Difference: Strategies of Urban Curating”, which also included “A Preliminary A-Z of Urban Curating”, was part of the 2010 volume Optrek in Transvaal. On the Role of Public Art in Urban Development. Interventions and Research, edited by Veronica Hekking,

Urban Curators at Work

Sabrina Lindemann, and Annechien Meier. At the same time, the idea of urban curating was also introduced by Japanese architectural studio bow-wow for their investigative urban research into spaces in Tokyo’s dense fabric left unplanned by architects, in which various and often apparently diametrically opposed uses—for example a noodle shop and a baseball pitch—became a hybrid combined in a single building. Their research was published in the Made in Tokyo city guide. In retrospect, these different practices are distinguished by a favoring of urban space as a space of participation integrating the potential of unexpected and unplanned encounters. The political dimension of participation, conventionally understood as the role of the community in decision-making, is joined with an understanding of spaces and people radically participating in each other’s formation, without ever having been invited to do so. It’s participation that starts to go far beyond invitation. Even though never emphasized as a commonly shared theoretical basis, the above-mentioned practices of urban curating, be it the public debate of urban issues, taking a stance against top-down master planning, or the combination of unexpected functions in existing architectures through everyday use, are distinguished by a fair amount of unruly, untamed, and migratory knowledge. These can best be described with the concepts of hybridity, developed by Homi K. Bhabha, and the concept of mestizaje, developed by Gloria Evangelina Anzaldúa. The emergence of post-binary negotiations of urban conditions began to challenge traditional notions of established dichotomies between private and public, formal and informal, planned and unplanned, bottom-up and top-down, DIY and austerity. The theoretical proposition of hybridization and the struggle for post-binarity keeps being profoundly shaken up by the ongoing re-emergence of power structures, as well as economic structures, relying fully on instilling new binaries of threat and neocolonialism. The present is the most difficult territory to chart. Looking for real-imagined alignments in the past proves simple compared to understanding the actual influence or the lasting impact of reorienting the urban curatorial practices of today. Currently, urban curators are involved in negotiating the war zone between private and public interests, formal and informal strategies, and planned and unplanned urban development. This war zone could also be referred to as the new borderland of emerging political conflicts, social struggles, and citizens’ movements. By the same token, this borderland is colonized by neoliberal economy, global capitalism, transnational governmentalism, labor extraction, and resource diversion. This brings me to slippages in the history of the present, in a Foucaultian sense. The urban borderlands become the new frontier for participation. This is not a participation based upon a routine invitation and the performance of the commoditized spectacle of decision-making. Rather, it is the radical participation in the given that constitutes our shared present. Participation is therefore not a choice, instead, from a theoretical standpoint, it is understood as inescapably being part of the given, a domain in which agency and making a difference towards change must be carved out and redefined through practice. The last part of my reflection concerns a few choice present-day situations, in which urban curators are either at work, or they would be much needed to take action in conflicted and contested political and economic territories. Starting in 1980, a group called UX, Urban eXperiment, has been participating in the improvement of neglected sites in Paris, without ever having been invited or authorized to do so. In their practice, preservation

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Tadashi Kawamata, Favela Café at the Art Basel, June 2013.

Available at: http://www.mg3-0. de/mg3-0-die-dritte-gruendung/

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meets infiltration, and monuments meet a new use. Not only have they clandestinely managed to restore the Pantheon’s clock, they have also showed films beneath the Trocadéro, and staged readings in monuments after dark. They use the networks and tunnels of urban infrastructure to add improvements to parts of Paris’ patrimony that would otherwise be abandoned or neglected. The group’s members are, for the better part, secret. Crisis, care, and creativity become an explosively entangled mix, in which we understand how urban curating is both radically self-initiated and stretches the boundaries of the urban imagination, transgressing and challenging the borderlines between lawfulness and urban improvement. In December 2012, the MG3.0_Masterplan Mönchengladbach Association successfully presented citizens with a new master plan for their city. The private association had commissioned Grimshaw Architects to develop this master plan in a one-year-long public, participatory process. In July 2013, the private initiative was adopted as the official guideline for the future urban development of the city of Mönchengladbach. Legally, according to the association’s website, a masterplan is “an informal and legally non-binding document”. {12} Yet, the commitment of the local government turned this self-initiated document into a political master plan for the city. In times of austerity, citizens take the master planning into their own hands. Those who had the means to do so hired Grimshaw Architects. This group of men calls their initiative, which will largely impact on the city’s future, the third founding. The MG3.0_Masterplan Mönchengladbach Association negotiates the borders between private and public interests, between economic investment and self-initiated master planning for the city’s future. In June 2013, the Basel Art Fair showcased a “Favela Café” by Japanese artist Tadashi Kawamata, who had been invited to do one of his site-specific

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installations. Herzog & de Meuron’s new fair halls stood in stark contrast to Kawamata’s makeshift and seemingly fragile composition of walkways and huts made out of wood. A group of local artists and activists appropriated the square and added their own, truly makeshift architectures complete with banners reading, “Respect Favelas”. The informal appropriation and its appearance, to use Hannah Arendt’s term, on the public square, which is in fact property of the Basel Art Fair, was cleared by the police, who did not hesitate to use tear gas. The borderland between the new fair halls, the commissioned site-specific installation, and local resistance was marked by the ambivalent relationship of contemporary architecture and informality, neo-colonial aspirations and political ethics of identification with an assumed, and thus attributed, position of weakness that demands protection and respect. For an urban curator today, there is no easy way out; no easy way of taking sides. Urban curators have to invest in their curatorial labor, often in precarious economic conditions and in social and affective relations, and they forge political alliances and strategic alignments. Is he or she identifying with the transgressions of urban repair work and the clandestine underground of aesthetic urban action where the city fails to act? Is he or she found among the initiators of a new master plan the city otherwise could not afford? Or is he or she found among the critics of such a master plan relying on the joined influence of money and power? Is she or he to be found among the protesters at the Basel Art Fair, or as their nuanced critic? How will relating thought to place and time be of use for urban curators today and in the future? How will Jane Addams’s residence, research, reform, and activist involvement; how will Suzanne Lacy’s service; how will participation beyond invitation, and hybridity or mestizaje, which marked the practices of the late 1990s and early 2000s, be of help? It is part of the urban curatorial task to radically extend these relations to tap into this real-imagined historiography as a constantly expanding resource of knowledge migrating towards different urban futures.

Literature Jane Addams, “The Settlement as a Factor in the Labor Movement”, in HullHouse Maps and Papers, New York: Thomas Y. Crowell, 1895, pp. 184–85. Gloria Anzaldúa, Borderlands/La Fron tera, The New Mestizaje, San Francisco: Aunt Lute Books, 1984. Homi K. Bhabha, The Location of Culture, London/New York: Routledge, 1994. Rosi Braidotti, nomadic subjects. embodiment and sexual difference in contemporary feminist theory, New York: Columbia University Press, 2011. Raoul Bunschoten et al., Urban Flotsam: Stirring the City, Rotterdam: 010 publishers, 2001. Dipesh Chakrabarty, Provincializing Europe. Postcolonial Thought and His torical Difference, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000. Michel Foucault, “Of Other Spaces, Heterotopias”, Architecture, Mouvement, Continuité 5, 1984, pp. 46–49. Available at: http://foucault.info/documents/heterotopia/foucault.heterotopia.en.html Édouard Glissant, Poetics of Relation, tr. by Betsy Wing, Ann Arbor, The University of Michigan Press, 1997/1990. Mary Jane Jacob, Michael Brenson, Eva M. Olson and Sculpture Chicago (eds.), Culture in Action, Seattle: Bay Press. In particular: Full Circle. Suzanne Lacy and A Coalition of Chicago Women, 1995, pp. 64–75. Amelia Jones, Seeing Differently. A His tory and Theory of Identification in the Visual Arts, London: Routledge, 2012. Momoyo Kaijima, Junzo Kuroda, and Yoshiharu Tsukamoto, Made in Tokyo: Guide Book, Japan: Kajima Institute Publishing Co., 2001. Elke Krasny, Architekturzentrum Wien (eds.) Hands-On Urbanism 1850–2012. The Right to Green, Hongkong mccm creations, 2012. Elke Krasny, “Ma(r)king a difference: Strategies of urban curating”, in Veronica Hekking, Sabrina Lindemann, and Annechien Meier (eds.), Optrek in Transvaal. On the Role of Public Art in Urban Development. Interventions and Research, Heijningen: Jap Sam Books, 2010, pp. 376–382. Miguel Robles-Duran, “Prelude to a Brand New Urban World”, Volume 30 Privatize!, February 2012. Meike Schalk, “Urban Curating: A Critical Practice Towards Greater Connectedness“, in Doina Petrescu (ed.), Altering Practices. Feminist Politics and Poetics of Space, London: Routledge, 2007, pp. 153–165.

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â&#x2020;&#x2019;â&#x20AC;&#x192; Workshop 01

Tools

Strategies

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different wish production equal park incremental consensus neighbourhood change total included people work position long term moment social problem free want (in-)between mis-use right community instrument you cultural

Topics What artistic-urban tools, methods and strategies do already exist? | How can these tools be integrated into planning in the long term and formulate and make effective new values of social and community activity beyond neoliberal interests? | What role does communication play? | How can (short-term) appropriation through investor interests be prevented? | How can a non-order or the “un-useful” be created? Who or what could be an “urban practitioner”? Does he/she already exist? Should he/she be deployed only where the unplanned and/or the unplannable takes place? The urban practitioner is a new figure, and can perhaps be best approached by using well-known examples. “Park Fiction” evolved from an Art in the Public Space project, out of opposition to a conventional market-oriented development plan at the Pinnasberg/St. Pauli/Hamburg. The park was developed through participative planning processes and the production of desires, which today represents a new model of tactical urban planning processes throughout the world. What roles have Christoph Schäfer and Cathy Skene played in this regard? How important is their background in the visual arts? Here, issues of urban planning are raised that cannot—or for some reasons are not—aired on the presentational level of the master plan. In 2002, El Cartucho in Bogotá (a slum situated in the city centre) was cleared and pulled down. Not because it needed to make way for new commercial buildings, but because living in this district was unhealthy and dangerous, and moreover so that important internal urban transport links could be built. A new park (Third Millennium Park) is also created here. Although the residents are to receive generous apartments with solid public infrastructure, financed entirely by the city, many still do not want to leave their houses. But the then mayor Antanas Mockus, known for his unorthodox approaches, commissions “Mapa Teatro” to put on a large-scale play together with residents, “Witness to the Ruin”. This helps to allay people’s fears of the new future, and they are able to come to terms collectively with the memory of the old district. After one year, all signs of “grief” have disappeared. Both projects are based on artistic strategies, which have enabled urban fiction to really happen. They put their trust in a strategic concept based on urban-tactical stakeholders and on establishing a collective desire. What transdisciplinary cooperations are needed here? Does a new professional field need to be created, if the intention is to brush up the city against the grain? What players can take on which roles in this? Is it possible for these players to change roles? Is it essential? Can the artistic strategy alone fulfill the unwanted hope of the unexpected? (Paul Rajakovics)

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WORKSHOP 1: TOOLS AND STRATEGIES FOR THE URBAN PRACTITIONER

Workshop 1, Nov. 19, 2012, Vienna University of Technology

Torange Khonsari The most important thing is to be flexible and to listen. Another aspect is this idea of taking residence for a longer period of time to understand the dynamics and the meanings within the different fragments in the urban fabric. They differ from location to location, even if you are in the same city, in the same street. […] We rather talk about collaboration than about participation, because collaboration is more on an equal basis. There is no differentiation between the expert or the non-expert and you meet with equal skills that other people have. The product—whatever that might be—becomes a result of that collaboration. Sometimes a product itself is not important, but it’s the process of production that becomes important through conversation, also the networks you create through that. For us the events and discussions are part of expanding a network and finding common grounds for people to start talking and finding their communality within these kinds of debates. Markus Ambach Artists would often say that the frame of architecture is too big, too wide. I think I would take an intermediate position. Town planners look at a much bigger frame. The artistic frame would be very precise, focussing on a very special local problem or interest, which is very important. But all this space in-between is somehow not really filled. There I would see myself. I would open a middle frame: working with a certain space and then transferring this to the planners, for example, and on the other side to the artists, who would sharpen a certain point in the local structure. Birgit Hundstorfer I think most of the good projects are based on chance (“Zufall”). For Europan, {01} I only work with architects, but we also cooperated with artists, mostly because of reorganizations of areas and for intermediate uses (“Zwischennutzungen”) which sometimes go ahead. The right people were together at the right time [project Kabelwerk]. Now, I think that could not happen again. It was a small window we had. Really committed people worked together, there was this old brown field, a special place, a place with history for the district, where most of the people of the district had worked in former times.

Europan is an open competition for architects under 40 in Europe.

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WORKSHOP 1

Christine Hohenbüchler On connecting to aesthetics: This is always necessary. This kind of sensibility also has a kind of aesthetics.

But of course, you are getting this feeling of being misinterpreted. That happened very often in our projects. First, the media tells us, that we are misusing people, and we also get misinterpreted by the media. You always have the feeling you are in between everything. After some time or years, it becomes a bit exhausting. Especially when you put a lot of energy of your whole life-time into it and you can never really survive. You have to find another job to survive. For the artists, this is a kind of dilemma. For me as an artist, it is problematic to deal with urban planning. I feel more like it’s a kind of homeopathic use, perhaps it helps, perhaps not, you never know. Often, after some time, you realize that something happened. Sometimes you get it from hearsay afterwards. You have to think about every aspect. As we worked we got an issue, which really touched us and then we got involved and did it. Based on naivety, we went to a forensic prison and worked there for two months. At my age today, I would not do that any more. This kind of “Zufall” makes things happen. You are getting involved and invited and then something happens. Martina Reutter It’s up to the community to approach those they trust. They act in a different way when they approach administration or artists. They don’t expect any bad from the artists, but they always expect a “no” from administration. The administration or government is always the enemy. They have to ask, they are the beggars. If they had somebody in between who is not necessarily the artist … it could also be the butcher or whoever. It’s always good to have somebody who is not directly concerned, not really involved, but comes from outside of the system or area. This person can mediate and negotiate with the city government or administration from a different position. I think this is the artist’s role. In this position you don’t beg and negotiate for yourself but negotiate in between. That’s what we have experienced in our projects. We go to the people and just ask them to use us, ask them what they want. What do you want to change in your neighborhood? Whatever, we try to be your instrument. We can say “no”. But if they want us to get a community garden or a base for homeless people or whatever, we do that for you. Roberto Gigliotti If the goal is to have neighborhoods working, it is about the way of considering the processes. The matter is probably not to define who is doing that but WHAT has to be done. And when we talk about a certain kind of interventions that are part of the process, then I don’t care who it is, if it’s an architect, an artist … Maybe it is about defining this process and clarifying the goal. Torange Khonsari I think the creative moment is also those edges of the disciplines. That’s where you are pushing. If our practice is so engrained within the art world, then is it pushing something there? It is pushing in the architecture; maybe we have to rethink that. Just throwing a curve ball in, kind of thinking if we want to effect the city in a way, so much has to do with ownership. This is a massive, massive issue. If it is somewhere we can come together I think it is about developing collective ownership of spaces in the city. In this kind of common space experimentation, production, all those things could actually happen. For me that’s becoming more and more the issue of always negotiating how we gain collective ownership. I don’t know whether that should be an institution or trust or something else. That’s where the key might be.

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DAS KÜNSTLERISCHE HANDELN IN EINER NEUEN PRAXIS – „URBAN PRACTITIONERS“ [ Paul Rajakovics ]

Michel de Certeau: Die Kunst des Handelns (frz. Arts de faire), Merve, 1980, S. 24.

Ebd., S. 29.

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Der „Practitioner“ kann als Fachmann, als Praktiker auf eine bestimmte Tätigkeit bezogen, übersetzt werden. Er kann auch, wie in der deutschen Sprache meist in der männlichen Form verwendet, im Bereich der Medizin als „Heilpraktiker“ oder gar als „praktischer Arzt“ verstanden werden. PraktikerInnen greifen auf Handlungsweisen zurück, die sie in der Kombina tion verschiedener „Praktiken“ als direkte Handlung ausüben. Michel de Certeau spricht in diesem Zusammenhang auch von Alltagspraktiken: „Viele Alltagspraktiken (Sprechen, Lesen, Unterwegssein, Einkaufen oder Kochen etc.) haben einen taktischen Charakter. Und noch allgemeiner, auch einen großer Teil der ‚Fertigkeiten‘: Erfolge des Schwachen gegenüber dem ‚Stärkeren‘ (dem Mächtigen, der Krankheit, der Gewalt der Dinge oder einer Ordnung etc.), gelungene Streiche, schöne Kunstgriffe, Jagdlisten, vielfältige Simulationen, Funde, glückliche Einfälle sowohl poetischer als auch kriegerischer Natur. Diese operationalen Leistungen gehen auf sehr alte Kenntnisse zurück.“ {01} De Certeau geht in diesem Kapitel, nachdem er die Dichotomie von Strategie und Taktik ausgeführt hat, über die Taktik in der Rhetorik zur Handlung im Raum über. Dabei leitet er über den Sprachgebrauch den so wesentlichen Bezug zwischen Raum und Handlung her, und öffnet seine Überlegungen schließlich wieder für Alltagssituationen: „Aber die Untersuchung beschäftigt sich vor allem mit den Praktiken im Raume, mit den Arten und Weisen, wie eine Örtlichkeit frequentiert wird, mit den komplexen Prozessen der Kochkunst und mit den tausend Weisen zur Herstellung einer Vertrautheit mit den erlebten Situationen, das heißt, wie man es ermöglichen kann, Situationen zu durchleben, indem man in sie wieder eine vielgestaltige Mobilität von Interessen und Vergnügungen einführt, in eine Kunst der praktischen Handhabung und des Genusses.“ {02} Wie können PraktikerInnen des Raumes sich in einem urbanen Kontext (also in einem direkten urbanen Handlungsfeld) definieren? Sollen sie dazu ein klares definiertes Berufsfeld definieren? Wie stellt sich diese Frage im Zusammenhang einer Berufspraxis im Naheverhältnis zur bildenden Kunst? Kann endlich die riesige Kluft zwischen Stadtplanung und künstlerischer Interven tion aufgelöst oder reduziert werden? Diese Fragestellungen wurden im November 2012 innerhalb des Symposiums „Planning Unplanned“ ausführlich, aber auch kontrovers gemeinsam mit Markus Ambach (Künstler, Kurator, MAP), Michael Diem (Architekt, MA19, Stadt Wien), Roberto Gigliotti (Architekt, osservatorio urbano/Lungomare, Bozen), Christine Hohenbüchler (Künstlerin, Leitung des Instituts für Kunst und Gestaltung, TU Wien), Birgit Hundstorfer (Raumplanerin, MA29, Stadt Wien), Kay von Keitz (Architekt, Stadtlabor Köln), Torange Khonsari (Architektin, public works, London), Dirck Möllmann (Kurator, KIÖR Steiermark), Martina Reutter und Manfred Rainer (KünstlerInnen, Wochenklausur) und Martina Taig (Kuratorin, Kunst im öffentlichen Raum, Wien) diskutiert.

Das künstlerische Handeln in einer neuen Praxis

Im Fokus standen insbesondere das Verhältnis der bildenden Kunst bzw. der Position von KünstlerInnen zu Fragen im öffentlichen Raum und eine gewisse Ohnmacht, Themen der Stadtplanung mit künstlerischen Mitteln zu behandeln. Und dies, obwohl es für alle außer Zweifel stand, dass Themen des künstlerisch-urbanen Handelns im Stadtraum bei einem Großteil der GesprächsteilnehmerInnen in ihre berufliche Praxis hineinspielen. Sei es in der direkten künstlerischen Arbeit, wie bei Wochenklausur, Christine Hohenbüchler, Torange Khonsari (als ausgebildeter Architektin) und Markus Ambach, oder sei es in kuratorischer Arbeit wie bei Dirck Möllmann, Martina Taig und Markus Ambach, der hier gewissermaßen eine Doppelposition einnimmt. Bevor wir auf die Frage der künstlerischen Position im Verhältnis eines neuen und vielleicht gewissermaßen unabhängigen Rollenbilds der Urban Practioners“ eingehen wollen, sollten wir uns fragen, wie der urbane Handlungsraum überhaupt Teil künstlerischen Handelns geworden ist. Blicken wir zurück zu den SituationistInnen, so stellen die „Konstruktion einer Situation“ (das Herstellen von kurzfristigen, spontanen und spielerischen Lebensumgebungen, die Freiheit und Leidenschaft ins alltägliche Leben bringen sollen) und das damit verbundene „détournement“ {03} wesentliche Impulse dar, das Feld der Urban Practioners vorzubereiten. Als „détournement“ verstanden die SituationistInnen eine „Zweckentfremdung von ästhetischen Fertigteilen“ {04}. Sie unterschieden dabei zwischen „minor détournement“ {05} und „deceptive détournement“ {06}. Entsteht doch die konstruierte Situation „durch die kollektive Organisation einer einheitlichen Umgebung und des Spiels von Ereignissen konkret und mit voller Absicht [als] konstruiertes Moment des Lebens“. {07} Es ist der Augenblick und eine mit diesem verbundene Hoffnung, dass dieser eine revolutionäre Veränderung mit sich bringt. Und dieser Augenblick steht im Zentrum einer auf das städtische Leben ausgerichteten (performativen) Kunstproduktion. So spricht Guy Débord auch im Zusammenhang mit dem „détournement“ von einer höheren Konstruktion des Milieus und der damit verbundenen Verbesserung der Psychogeografie. {08} Dabei bezieht er sich auf Umwertungen, die aus einer bestimmten Situation bzw. einer Handlung heraus entwickelt werden. Zusammengefasst wird dies bei Débord dann zum „unitären Urbanismus“, der als eine „Anwendung der künstlerischen und technischen Mittel, die zur vollständigen Konstruktion eines Milieus in dynamischer Verbindung mit Verhaltensexperimenten zusammenwirken“, erklärt wird. {09} Dies steht im Gegensatz zur ursprünglichen lateinischen Bedeutung, die „urban“ im Sinne der Dichotomie „urban – rustikal“ allgemein definiert, also der weltläufigen, höflichen und gebildeten Lebensweise. Hier bezieht sich Débord auf „urban“ im Sinne von städtisch vermutlich direkt auf (seine) Großstadt Paris, wo bereits in den späten 1950ern in den Diskussionen der „rive gauche“-Communitys der Geruch der StudentInnenrevolution lange vor 1968 spürbar war. „Unitär“, also „einzigartig“, steht für ein Gegenkonzept zur klassischen Planung im Sinne einer höheren Sozialität einer neuen Gesellschaft, welche im Pragmatismus spätmoderner Planungen kaum zu finden ist. Dahinter steht die klare Absage an städtische Planungen der Moderne, wie sie gerade in den 1950er- und 1960er-Jahren weltweit realisiert und von Henri Lefebvre in Die Revolution der Städte angeprangert wurden. Das Ausgrenzen von Planung wurde aber letztlich auch zum Dilemma des Begriffes „unitärer Urbanismus“ im Sinne Débords. Lefebvre adressiert im Wesentlichen die Ebene des „sozialen Raumes“ {10} bzw. der Handlungsebene unserer sozialen Interaktionen. Auch wenn Lefebvre diese Ebene der „räumlichen Praktiken“ als die Wesentlichste sieht, so wird Raum in seinem 1974

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vgl. Situationistische Internatio nale 1957–72, Museum moderner Kunst Stiftung Ludwig (Katalog), Wien 1998, S. 78.

04 internationale situationiste, 13. Juni 1958. „Intégration de productions actuelles ou passées des arts dans une construction supérieure du milieu. Dans ce sens il ne peut y avoir de peinture ou de musique situationniste, mais un usage situationniste de ces moyens. Dans un sens plus primitif, le détournement à l’intérieur des sphères culturelles anciennes est une méthode de propagande, qui témoigne de l’usure et de la perte d’importance de ces sphères.“ 05

Bis heute gibt es kaum Definitionen auf Deutsch, deshalb werden hier englische Quellen zitiert: „The détournement of an element which has no importance in itself and which thus draws all its meaning from the new context in which it has been placed. For example, a press clipping, a neutral phrase, a commonplace photograph.“ http://www.bopsecrets.org/SI/ detourn.htm.

„[...] also termed premonitoryproposition détournement, is in contrast the détournement of an intrinsically significant element, which derives a different scope from the new context“; http://www.bopsecrets.org/ SI/detourn.htm.

07 Situationistische Internationale 1957–72, Museum moderner Kunst Stiftung Ludwig (Katalog), Wien, 1998, S. 78. 08

Ebd.

In seinem Text „Lefebvres Raum – Körper, Macht und Raumproduktion“ zitiert bzw. übersetzt Corell Wex Lefebvre ins Deutsche: „Es zeigt sich, dass dieser Raum kein Ding und kein Nichtding ist, er ist eine soziale Form, eine Realabstraktion wie das Geld, er wird strukturiert und strukturiert selbst; Er ist Subjekt und Objekt zugleich.“ In Umzug ins Offene, Hans Ulrich Reck (Hrsg.), Springer, 1998, S. 34.

erschienenen Buch La production de l’espace (engl. Production of Space) auch in der „Repräsentation des physischen Raumes“ auf die Darstellungsebene projiziert, die selbstverständlich auch Planungsprozesse fokussiert. Die Planung kann als etwas Strategisches bezeichnet werden und setzt einen Plan bzw. eine Projektion der Zukunft mit ein. Wenn wir davon ausgehen, dass unser Zusammenleben Regelwerke benötigt, so gilt dieses Axiom auch für das Urbane. Dabei handelt es sich um Vereinbarungen des Zusammenlebens, die verbal oder auch als Plan festgesetzt werden. Diese können akzeptiert oder abgelehnt, aber nicht verleugnet werden. Regelwerke sind Basis und Ausgangspunkt performativer Handlungen, die auch ein Ausbrechen aus diesen implizieren. Letztere könnten als etwas Spontanes bzw. Taktisches gesehen werden. Um eine urbane Situation verändern zu können, ist aber eine Analyse des Kontextes (sozial, geografisch, räumlich) notwendig, da nur so ein strategisches und spezifisch wirksames Konzept erarbeitet werden kann. Die Planung kann kurzfristig – wie bei der „Konstruktion der Situation“ – beispielsweise über ein Spiel, eine Irritation oder Ähnliches als auch über räumliche bzw. physische Veränderung, wie diese etwa in längerfristigen Planungsprozessen von Städteplanungen („urban design“, „urban planning“) gedacht werden, erfolgen. Die „Konstruktion der Situation“ inkludiert also sehr wohl eine Planung im Sinne ihrer Konzeption. Diese unterscheidet sich aber klar von einem umfassend geplanten urbanen Kontext. Das Attribut „unitär“ des unitären Urbanismus steht vielmehr mit etwas Polemik zu einer revolutionären Hoffnung, die auf spontane (taktische) Veränderung setzt. Débord und die SituationistInnen haben zweifelsohne mit dem „unitären Urbanismus“ die „künstlerische Handlung“ als urbanes Instrumentarium sowohl in den Urbanismusdiskurs als auch in den Kunstdiskurs eingeführt. Eine Kombination von „détournement“ und „dérive“ knüpft hier einerseits bei Marcel Duchamp und andererseits bei Charles Baudelaire und Walter Benjamin an. Dabei ist ein neues Feld eines urbanen Handlungsraumes entstanden, welches erst in den 1990er-Jahren wirksam hervorgetreten ist. Bis dahin wurden urbane Themen über Städteplanungen (Raumplanung, „urban planning“, „urban design“) eher pragmatisch mit Mitteln der Soziologie und Sozialarbeit im sozialen Raum weiterbearbeitet. Klare Regeln konnten wie Kochrezepte gesammelt und zu Handlungsanweisungen für die Praxis und die vor Ort gestellten Fragen formuliert werden. Selbst für größere Bauträgerwettbewerbe in Wien werden heute SoziologInnen herangezogen, deren Möglichkeiten sehr begrenzt sind und daher in der Umsetzung kaum Wirkung zeigen. Die künstlerische Handlung bietet demgegenüber das Element des Unerwarteten an. Sie fordert quasi einen Paradigmenwechsel heraus und reagiert auf einen ganz spezifischen Kontext. Sie ist eingebettet in ein Spannungsfeld zwischen Taktik und Strategie und hat oft das Problem, nicht verstanden zu werden. Dies alles lässt diesen Arbeitsbereich so schwer greifbar erscheinen, obwohl er eigentlich dort Lösungsansätze anbietet, wo mit konventionellen Methoden kaum noch gearbeitet werden kann. Dies deshalb, da die künstlerische Handlung per se nicht nach Lösungen oder Antworten schreit, sondern meist aus einer nicht erwarteten Perspektive in den Handlungsraum direkt eingreift. Dabei ist die Kraft des Kollektiven und der Vision ein wesentliches Element, wie etwa bei „When Faith Moves Mountains“ („Wenn der Glaube Berge versetzt“) von Francis Alÿs, der mit 500 Freiwilligen eine Sanddüne um 10 cm versetzte.

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Das wohl berühmteste Beispiel „Park Fiction“ {11} ist aus der Opposition zu einem marktwirtschaftlich konformen Bebauungsplan am Pinnasberg, St. Pauli, Hamburg entstanden. Christoph Schäfer und Cathy Skene haben aus einem Kunst-im-öffentlichen-Raum-Projekt mittels eines partizipativen Planungsprozesses und der von ihnen propagierten Wunschproduktionen einen Park entstehen lassen. Auch wenn es sich hier um einen langen (strategisch) konzipierten Prozess mit einem ganz bestimmten Ziel – einen mit urbanen Programmen ausgestatteten Park – handelt, so brachten hier Mittel der direkten (taktischen) Kommunikation eine unerwartete Wendung mit sich. Zu diesen Mitteln direkter Kommunikation zählt der sogenannte Wunschkoffer, der als Werkzeug und Manifest künstlerischen Handelns von „Park Fiction“ betrachtet werden kann. Die Frage des direkten Eingreifens als „soziale Handlung“ in urbane Themenstellungen ist mittlerweile auch in der Sozialarbeit unbestrittenes Gut. Auf der ganzen Welt sind täglich unzählige SozialarbeiterInnen unterwegs, um vor Ort Hilfestellungen anzubieten. Klare Handlungsanweisungen durch einschlägige Institutionen und kommunikatives Geschick der einzelnen „Streetworkers“ helfen verlässlich, Probleme in schwierigen Alltagssituationen zu lösen. Da ist die Ausrichtung von Community-Projekten, welche auf Problemfelder spezieller Stadtviertel ausgerichtet sind, nicht weit entfernt von klassischer Sozialarbeit. So hat Wochenklausur 2012 bei „Mobile Sozialarbeit mit Schlichtungsfunktion“ die Konfliktsituation mit Suchtkranken so aufgegriffen, dass daraus ein permanentes Sozialprojekt werden konnte. Auch methodisch sind dies partizipative Handlungsfelder, die eine Arbeit auf gleicher Augenhöhe ermöglichen wollen, wie das auch Torange Khonsari bei ihrem ersten Statement im Rahmen des Workshops betonte. Der informelle Charakter dieser Arbeit und die Lösungsorientiertheit bei sozialen Aufgabenstellungen lassen formal oft die Grenzen zwischen künstlerisch-urbanem Handeln und Sozialarbeit verschwinden. Klarer kann differenziert werden, wenn man die Frage nach den dahinterstehenden AuftraggeberInnen stellt. Während Sozialarbeit meist staatlich, institutionell (NGOs etc.) oder von einer Stadtverwaltung organisiert ist, so haben Community-Projekte und Nachbarschaftsprojekte meist selbstorganisierten Charakter. Hier setzt auch die Rolle der Urban Practitioners an: Partizipative Handlungsfelder und urbane Fragestellungen sind wesentliche Grundlagen ihrer Arbeit. Diese verlangt darüber hinaus einen gesamtheitlichen Überblick, der auch die Einschätzung politischer und städtebaulicher Entwicklungen einbezieht. Sie stehen aber im Gegensatz zu PolitikerInnen und StädteplanerInnen im direkten Geschehen. Sie sind immer auf Fähigkeiten und Zusammenarbeit der Community vor Ort angewiesen. Sie müssen sowohl an einer Gesamtstrategie arbeiten als auch konkrete Taktiken verfolgen können. Der/ Die Urban Practitioner bedient sich künstlerischer Strategien und bewusst herbeigeführter Paradigmenwechsel, um Themenfelder zu eröffnen. Er/Sie muss sich ästhetischer Diskurse bewusst sein, um Projekte überhaupt erst vermittelbar zu machen. Er/Sie setzt auf multiple Autorenschaften und Partizipation, ohne die klare Ausrichtung und Handschrift von Projekten zu verlassen. Zusammengefasst: Er/Sie muss Planung und Handlung zugleich verfolgen können. Im Grunde definiert sich die Rolle der Urban Practitioners aus einem transdisziplinären Rollenbild, das als Missing Link zwischen Kunst, Design, „urban design“, „urban planning“ und Sozialarbeit angesiedelt ist. Diese Rolle erfordert sehr unterschiedliche Fähigkeiten, um dem kontinuierlichen Wechsel zwischen unterschiedlichen Maßstäben ebenso zu begegnen wie der

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Wikipedia dt.: „Anwohner der Gegend um den Pinnasberg in AltonaAltstadt und aus dem angrenzenden St. Pauli forderten anstelle der beabsichtigten Wohn- und Bürobebauung 1994 erstmals einen öffentlichen Park für ihr dicht bebautes Viertel. Die Nachbarschaftsinitiative, der auch soziale Einrichtungen, die einzige Schule des Quartiers und einzelne Künstler angehörten, fertigte erste Skizzen für den Park an und warb in den Medien für ihr Projekt. Aus dieser vielschichtigen Zusammenarbeit ging das Projekt Park Fiction hervor. Die Künstler Christoph Schäfer und Cathy Skene, von der Hamburger Kulturbehörde eingeladen, ein Projekt für Kunst im öffentlichen Raum zu entwickeln, schrieben in Abstimmung mit dem Hafenrandverein ein Konzept für Park Fiction und führten verschiedene Veranstaltungen zum Thema durch, u. a. Walkman-Führungen, Vorträge zu „Parks & Politik“, Ausstellungen, Workshops, Diskussionen sowie eine „Gartenbibliothek“. 1997 wurde ein Planungscontainer vor Ort aufgestellt. Anwohner aller Altersgruppen beteiligten sich mit Ideen und Zeichnungen, konzipierten u. a. einen Seeräuberinnen-Brunnen, ein OpenAir-Solarium, den Fliegenden Teppich (ein wellenförmiges Rasenstück), ein tulpengemustertes Tartanfeld, mobile Palmeninseln oder Postfächer für Jugendliche, die unkontrolliert Post erhalten wollen. Die Künstler und Architekten fertigten nach diesen Vorgaben Planungsskizzen an.“ (http:// de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Park_Fiction).

Gebietsbetreuungen sind in Wien bezirksübergreifende Institutionen, die sich einer sanften Stadtentwicklung verschrieben haben. Dabei geht es um die institutionelle Unterstützung und Initiierung unterschiedlicher Initiativen.

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fortwährenden Diskrepanz zwischen Planung und dem konkreten Agieren in Handlungsfeldern. Dennoch oder gerade deswegen muss es AkteurInnen geben, die diese Herausforderungen annehmen. Wie sehen die TeilnehmerInnen der Workshopgruppe diese Thematik? Die klassische Berührungsangst zwischen städtebaulicher Planung und künstlerischer Handlung hat sich auch in der eingangs beschriebenen Diskussionsrunde manifestiert. Besonders Markus Ambach und Wochenklausur wehrten sich gegen die Etablierung eines neuen künstlerischen Berufsfeldes. Vielmehr wurde die Position der „KünstlerInnenposition“ als strategisches Instrumentarium ins Zentrum gekehrt. Hintergrund dieser Manifestation ist wohl nicht zuletzt die Angst, die kritische eigene Position zu verlieren. So wurde von ihnen die Offenheit der VertreterInnen stadtplanerischer Institutionen eher als Bedrohung denn als Chance gesehen. Vielleicht nicht zu Unrecht, wenn man die üblichen Vereinnahmungen durch Stadtmarketing und InvestorInneninteressen bei Stadtentwicklungen betrachtet. Gilt es doch oft vielmehr, diesen Interessen entgegenzuwirken. Auf der anderen Seite zeigten die VertreterInnen der Magistratsabteilungen der Stadt Wien eine große Neugierde hinsichtlich dieses neuen beruflichen Feldes der Urban Practitioners. Gerade Wien hat hier einige institutionalisierte berufliche Schnittstellen wie etwa die Gebietsbetreuungen {12} oder auch BeamtInnen für Zwischennutzungen und Leerstand zu bieten. Im Unterschied zur Position der Urban Practitioners fehlt aber (noch) die kritische Distanz und der Fokus auf das kreative Potenzial der künstlerischen Handlung. Wenn wir die jüngeren Entwicklungen in der Planungskultur betrachten, so könnten „kooperative Planungsverfahren“ (die in Wien seit kurzer Zeit als neue Methode eingeführt wurden) als beispielhaft betrachtet werden. Hier sind neben VertreterInnen von Stadtplanung, Freiraumplanung (eventuell auch Soziologie) und Architektur sowie InvestorInnen und BauträgerInnen, auch VertreterInnen von Bürgerinitiativen engagiert. Bislang wurden allerdings keine KünstlerInnen oder ExpertInnen aus dem Kunst-im-öffentlichen-RaumKontext eingeladen, um für die oft stark divergierenden Interessen ein für alle zufriedenstellendes städtebauliches Leitbild bis hin zur Bebauung zu entwickeln. Eine solche Verfahrensart könnte sich als eine erste professionelle Positionierung von Urban Practitioners am schnellsten etablieren. So könnten diese sowohl in der Planung als auch in der Handlung einen wesentlichen kreativ-sozialen Part übernehmen. Hier könnte auch das Feld der Kunst mit dem Feld des Öffentlichen wieder neu und jeweils kontextuell relevant verhandelt werden. Dies bedeutet aber auch zu entscheiden, inwieweit Kunst sich in soziale Agenden „einmischen“ soll bzw. wie künstlerische Handlung einzusetzen ist. Natürlich wäre dies erst einmal eine kuratorische Tätigkeit, jedoch muss sich das Feld dann 1:1 in den Raum verlagern, unabhängig davon, ob es sich um dieselbe Person handelt oder nicht. Heute bestimmt leider eher der Zufall, ob und wie urbane Interventionen gesetzt werden. Natürlich muss ein neues transdisziplinäres Feld wie das der Urban Practitioners erst präzise definiert werden, um es in der Praxis gut etablieren zu können. Grundlage dafür wäre eine profunde Ausbildung, die auf die oft schwierigen und sehr divergierenden Agenden der Arbeitsfelder vorbereitet. Ein geeigneter Weg wäre eine Verankerung als neuer Studienzweig an den Kunstakademien, wobei beispielsweise Fachbereiche wie „Raum & Designstrategien“ (Linz), Raumstrategien (Weißensee/Berlin) oder „Social Design_Arts as Urban Innovation“ an der Universität für angewandte Kunst (Wien) bei entsprechendem zu etablierenden Fokus sofort diese Ausbildung übernehmen könnten. Dies bedeutet allerdings, dass hier neben der künstleri-

Das künstlerische Handeln in einer neuen Praxis

schen Ausbildung auch ein Wissen hinsichtlich qualitätsvoller Planungsstrategien bereits in einem Grundstudium vermittelt werden muss. Der größte Teil der an diesem Feld Interessierten hat heute ein abgeschlossenes Kunst- oder Architekturstudium, jedoch fehlt jenes strategische Wissen, um gleichermaßen bedachtsam und wirksam ein künstlerisches Projekt mit entsprechender Ausstrahlung setzen zu können. Ein möglicher Studienplan für den/die Urban Practitioner benötigt also sowohl die künstlerische Ausbildung als auch die urbanistische Komponente des Architekturstudiums. Zudem sollten auch Grundlagen der Soziologie vermittelt werden. Bis dato ließen sich diese Felder meist nur über transdisziplinäre Gruppen verbinden. Für die Arbeit selbst benötigt es dann zusätzlich ein hohes Maß an sozialer Kompetenz und Engagement, welches von den Interessierten selbst mitgebracht werden muss – ist doch dieses Feld ein neues, das auf Eigeninitiative beruht, für das es bislang noch keine „job description“ geschweige denn Stellenausschreibungen gibt. {13} Kürzlich konnte ich in Triest eine junge engagierte transdisziplinäre Gruppe kennenlernen, bei welcher aber trotz ihres Engagements die Frage nach der Relevanz der Projekte sowohl formal als auch urban (noch) offenblieb. Diese Begegnung ist nur ein Beispiel für ein signifikantes Phänomen, das die Diskrepanz zwischen Wollen und den komplexen Fähigkeiten, derer es bedarf, aufzeigt. Andererseits bleibt ebenso oft nach mäßig erfolgreichen Projekten dann auch bei den AutorInnen eine Frustration, die bei genauer Evaluierung der Kontexte vor einer Intervention hätte vermieden werden können. Bedarf dafür, eine transdisziplinäre Ausbildung zum/zur Urban Practitioner auch auf anderen Architektur- und Kunsthochschulen einzurichten, gäbe es also genug. Die KünstlerInnen der Diskussionsrunde haben die Notwendigkeit der Urban Practitioners eigentlich verneint. Trotzdem sehe ich einige von ihnen genau in diesem Feld, und so möchte ich mit einer biografischen Frage zu Pierre Bourdieu enden: War er es nicht, der Philosophie studierte, der sich einen großen Teil seines Lebens eigentlich als Anthropologe verstanden hat und doch schließlich das Feld der Soziologie revolutioniert hat? Ist es ist nicht die Kreuzung der Felder zu einer neuen Disziplin, die wirkliche Innovation erwarten lässt?

Siehe dazu die KünstlerInnenInserts in dieser Publikation.

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EINFACHE PSYCHOTEKTONISCHE ÜBUNGEN [ Georg Winter ] „Eines ist so wichtig wie’s andere: rechtzeitig zufassen und rechtzeitig loslassen können.“ (Nikolaus von Kues, 1401–1464) Einfache psychotektonische Übungen sollen sich an den Meditationsobjekten der buddhistischen Satipatthana-Sutta orientieren. Die Grundlagen der Achtsamkeit beziehen Körperbetrachtungen ein, die für die „Geschicklichkeit im Auffassen“, dem Uggahakosalla, erforderlich sind. Im Visuddhi-Magga repetieren (wiederholen) wir die 32 Körperteile im gesprochenen Wort, repetieren wir die 32 Körperteile in Gedanken, bestimmen die 32 Körperteile hinsichtlich ihrer Farbe, ihrer Form, hinsichtlich ihrer Verortung im Zusammenhang des ganzen Körpers, hinsichtlich der genauen Körperstelle, hinsichtlich ihrer Abgrenzung und der Unterschiedlichkeit voneinander. CE-FAST, CISS, CORE, CSFSE, CSI, DANTE, DE-FLASH, DEFAISE, DEFGR, DESS, EPI, EPSI, FADE, FAISE, FAST, FEER, FFE, FISP, FLAIR, FLAME, GRASS, GE, HASTE, IR, IRABB, LOTA, MAST, MPGR, MP-RAGE, MSE, PCMHP, PSIF, RARE, RASE, RASEE, SE, SENSE, SMASH, SPGR, STE, STEAM, SPIR, SR, SSFP, STIR, TFL, TGSE, TIRM, TRUE-FISP, TRUFI, Turbo-FLASH, TSE, UTSE, UCS, VIBE Contrast Enhanced Fast Acquisition in the Steady State, Constructive Interference in Steady State, Clinically Optimized Regional Exams, Contiguous Slice Fast-acquisition Spin Echo, Chemical Shift Imaging, Delays Alternating with Nutations for Tailored Excitation, Doppelecho – Fast Low Angle Shot, Dual Echo Fast Acquisition Interleaved Spin Echo, Driven Equilibrium Fast Grass, Double Echo Steady State, Echo Planar Imaging, Echo Planar Spectroscopic Imaging, Fast Acquisition Double Echo, Fast Acquired Steady-state Technique, Field Echo with Even Echo Rephasing, Fast Field Echo, Fast Imaging with Steady-state Precession, Fluid Attenuated Inversion Recovery, Fast Low Angle Multi-echo, Fast Low Angle with Relaxation Enhancement, Fast Low Angle Shot, Gradient Refocused Acquisition in the Steady State, GradientenEcho, Half Fourier-acquired Single Shot, Turbo Spin Echo, Inversion Recovery, Inversion Recovery Fast Grass, Long Term Averaging, Motion Artifact Suppression Technique, Slice-Multiplexed Gradient, Refocused Acquisition with Steady State, Magnetization Prepared Rapid Gradient Echo, Modified Spin Echo, Phasenkontrast-Multi-Herzphasen, Precision Study with Imaging Fast (umgedrehtes FISP), Rapid Acquisition with Relaxation Enhancement, Rapid Acquisition Spin Echo, Rapid Acquisition Spin Echo Enhanced, Spin-Echo, Sensitivity-encoded, Simultaneous Acquisition of Spatial Harmonics, Spoiled Gradient Recalled Acquisition in the Steady State, Stimulated Echo, Stimulated Echo Acquisition Mode, Spectral Presaturation with Inversion Recovery, Saturation Recovery Sequence, Steady State Free Precession, Short-Tau Inversion Recovery, Turbo Flash, Turbo Gradient Spin Echo, Turbo-Inversion Recovery-Magnitude, True Fast Imaging With Steady Precession, True Fast Imaging with Steady Precession, Turbo Fast Low Angle Shot, Turbo Spin Echo, Ultra-fast Turbo Spin Echo, Under Cover Stimulation, Volume Interpolated Breathhold Examination

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Die hier aufgeführten bildgebenden Verfahren der Magnetresonanztomografie versuchen zum einen den körperlichen Zustand bzw. einen innerkörperlichen Prozess zu veranschaulichen, andererseits sehen wir in der Menge der Verfahren die Fragwürdigkeit einer existenziellen Erkenntnis über die Körperzustände, aus denen heraus wir operieren. Die Gefahr besteht darin, dass wir die einzelnen Verfahren nicht sinnvoll verknüpfen und auslegen können. Die erste einfache psychotektonische Übung verbindet die Abkürzungen der Verfahren im Gesang (shirim). Die zweite einfache psychotektonische Übung ist das laute, flüssige Lesen der Verfahren. Die PFG-NMR („pulsed-field-gradient nuclear magnetic resonance“) zeigt nicht nur einen Zustand als Bild, sondern ermöglicht die Visualisierung von Prozessen der Ortsveränderung der beobachteten Objekte zu einer definierten und festgelegten Zeit. Fließbewegungen und Selbstdiffusionsvorgänge werden visualisiert. Hieraus können zum Beispiel vom menschlichen Gehirn oder in der Geotektonik diffuse systemische Erkenntnisse gewonnen werden. In der Neurophysiologie konnte mit diesen Messtechniken erwiesen werden, dass sich eine zukünftige Körperbewegung vorwegnehmen lässt bzw., wie in den asiatischen Kampfkünsten praktiziert, die zukünftigen Bewegungen des Gegners schon vorher vom Gegenüber realisiert werden. Ähnliche Aktivitätsmuster werden auf verschiedenen Ebenen erzeugt. Auf die Projektplanung und Realisierung hin übertragen lässt sich annähernd Gleichzeitigkeit als Situation erzeugen. Die Psychologie sieht in der Antizipation eine Erwartung oder Erwartungshaltung. Ein Ereignis zu antizipieren heißt, anzunehmen, dass ein Ereigniseintritt wahrscheinlich ist. Ein Projekt wird geplant und zeitversetzt realisiert. In diesem Zusammenhang ist die Antizipation eher das Gegenteil einer direkten Praxis. Die Psychotektonik sieht jedoch in der erwähnten Vorahnung, antizipatorische Vorgänge als Möglichkeit einer unmittelbaren Resonanz der Beteiligten untereinander zu erzeugen, wie die RetrogradistInnen durch den Rückbau von vergeblichen Vorstellungen die unmittelbare Anwesenheit thematisieren und damit Rücksicht auf zukünftige Entwicklungen zu nehmen versuchen. Im Idealfall bedingt das Planen antizipatorische Fähigkeiten, damit meine ich im Jetzt Zukünftiges zu erkennen, zu berücksichtigen und zu praktizieren. Je länger und je größer geplant wird, je mehr Einzelne für Gruppen planen, desto mehr strapaziert sich diese Wahrnehmungsfähigkeit und birgt die Gefahr von Missverständnissen oder katastrophalen Zuständen. Diese Missverständnisse entstehen aus der Wahrscheinlichkeit, dass der gewohnten Vorstellung von Antizipation auch ein internalisierter atavistischer Komplex zugrunde liegt, der sich aus Problemen der Objektdifferenzierung in der frühen Kindheit (Objekt-Verlust-Spielen) diszipliniert und konditioniert. Praktisch wird befürchtet, dass die Vorwegnahme eines zukünftigen Zustands sich im illusionären Jetzt der Planung genügt. Die Euphorie der Erwartung berauscht. Ihre Einlösung in der Zukunft, weil nicht berücksichtigt, stellt etwas völlig anderes dar, und selbst wenn das Erwartete eintritt, ist es etwas anderes. Wer wünscht sich nicht, an einer besseren Zukunft mitzuarbeiten. Die Ernüchterung folgt auf einer anderen, oft zeitversetzten Ebene mit anderen HandlungspartnerInnen. Die Unverbindlichkeit ist Grundlage gängiger Planungsprozesse, deren Folgen andere in Realitäten zwingen, die nicht vorherzusehen waren oder aus falsch trainierter Antizipation reiner Selbstzweck bleibt. Der folgende Textabschnitt steht in direktem Bezug zum Bezug einer Einraumwohnung im ostungarischen Alsózsolca. Während Sie diesen Text

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The Hans Molfenter Space in Alsózsolca, Eastern Hungary, 2014. Single-room apartment with stove for one family. Self-organized using funds taken from an art prize and fees for symposiums on planning strategies and urban development. Courtesy: forschungsgruppe_f / Georg Winter

lesen und weil Sie ihn lesen, wohnt eine junge Roma-Familie ein Jahr nach dem Symposium „Planning Unplanned / Exploring the New Role of the Urban Practitioner“ in einem beheizbaren Wohnraum, der in Eigeninitiative der BewohnerInnen an ein bestehendes Wohnhaus angebaut werden konnte. Ohne das Symposium in Wien wäre der Wohnungsbau nicht zu realisieren gewesen, weil die Mittel für das nötige Baumaterial fehlten. Der Transfer soll nicht die leidige Diskussion: Praxis, gesellschaftliche Verantwortung versus Theorie als selbstreferenzielles System anheizen oder den Autor im Feld der Debatte gut aussehen lassen. Die Verbindung jedes Textbausteins mit Baustoffen erschwert die Arbeit an diesem Text. Der Text ist kaum tragbar und verräumt sich in den Verhältnissen, die von der Utopie ausgelöst wurden. Das Arbeiten an der Utopie versucht eine stabile, nachvollziehbare und belastbare Verbindung zwischen den bereits zahlreich vorliegenden, oft hervorragenden Stellungnahmen zu den urbanen Themen und den praktischen Handlungsnotwendigkeiten der gesellschaftlichen Verfasstheit zu schaffen. Eine Gleichzeitigkeit, die sich einlöst und nur so viel verspricht, wie sie einhalten kann. Alexander Schikowski von der forschungsgruppe_f fotografierte József Moldován beim Sammeln und Anhäufen von Steinen für den Hausbau. Ich zeigte das Bild 2012 auf dem Symposium an der TU in Wien. Während des Vortrags war mir klar, dass József mit seinem Projekt der radikalen Verkürzung von Planung den praktischen Teil der Utopie (Moldován/Foucault) in die Hand nimmt. Er schreibt meinen Text. Ich übersetze das Baumaterial. József Moldován muss beim Steinesammeln eine grellgrüne Warnweste mit der Aufschrift „Országos Szemétgyüjtési Akció“ (Staatliche Müllsammelaktion) tragen. Auf dem in Wien gezeigten Bild sieht man ihn ohne die Warnweste, was durch Polizeiwillkür schon zu drei Tagen Untersuchungshaft führte. In der Erinnerung an Fernand Cheval, einen französichen Landbriefträger, der auf seinen Postwegen Steine sammelte, um sich zwischen 1879 und 1912 den Traum des „Palais Idéal“ zu bauen, ohne eine handwerkliche Ausbildung oder fachliche Spezialisierung vorzuweisen, sehe ich in Jóskas Camouflage die Transformation einer rassistisch initiierten Müllsammlung zu einer Steinsammlung für den selbst organisierten Hausbau als direkte Praxis. Die Anmaßung in vermessenen Gesellschaftsstrukturen invertiert die Rollenzuordnung, eine

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Collecting and diffusing. Paradoxical intervention. Courtesy: forschungsgruppe_f / Georg Winter

neue Rolle erfindet sich aus der Achtsamkeit, den Spielraum zu erfassen, der noch gar nicht greifbar ist, den man sich nimmt, obwohl er noch nicht da ist. Häufig muss jedoch mehr Müll gesammelt werden, als Steine gefunden werden, die Gefängnisstrafe geht länger als gedacht, der Winter tritt früher ein, oder die gesammelten Steine werden von anderen genommen, die auch welche brauchen. „Es gibt Steine wie Seelen“, sagt Rabbi Nachman von Bratzlaw (1772-1810). Wir sind dann schon beim nächsten Symposium, oder ich schreibe an einem Text zur anastrophalen Stadt mit dem Satz von Karl Kraus im Genick: „Je näher man das Wort ansieht, desto ferner sieht es zurück.“ So entferne ich mich mit dem Wort von der Baustelle, die Ende Dezember eine beheizbare Wohnung geworden ist und auch den Text anwärmt. Arbeitsgemeinschaft Anastrophale Stadt – AG AST Die Anastrophe, eine Wende zum Besseren, und die Katastrophe, eine Wende zum Schlechteren, vereint die Dramatik ihrer Heftigkeit. Sie liegen dicht beieinander. Katastrophale Zustände in Gesellschaften und urbanen Räumen, katastrophale Planungsmethoden und Vorstellungen finden in der Anastrophe eine Drehung, eine Wende zum Besseren. Das ist die Utopie der Arbeitsgemeinschaft Anastrophale Stadt. Daran arbeiten die Beteiligten aus den Bereichen Aktionskunst, Performance, Stadtforschung, Architektur im Sinne der fröhlichen Wissenschaft. Wir versprechen nichts, arbeiten aber beharrlich an der Utopie des heftigen Richtungswechsels. Ist 2013 in Mannheim die Perspektive auf eine Bundesgartenschau zentrale Fragestellung der Stadtentwicklung, so war bereits 2011 mit Blick auf die Bewerbung Mannheims als europäische Kulturhauptstadt (2025?) die Zukunft der Stadt Mannheim Gegenstand der Interaktionen. Ein umfangreiches Urban-Farming-Konzept wurde mit den BewohnerInnen kommuniziert. Der Infopavillon der AG AST zwischen Popakademie und dem von Kreativwirtschaft bedrohten JungbuschViertel war kurz nach der Eröffnung einem Brandanschlag zum Opfer gefallen, konnte aber wieder repariert werden. Eigentliches Ziel des Infopavillons war es, die eigenen künstlerischen Interventionen und gutgemeinten Verbesserungsvorschläge infrage zu stellen. Sind wir wirklich die Guten? „Oh Herr des Universums, bitte halte die Künstlerplage von uns fern, damit wir nicht in

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bösen Gewässern ertrinken und damit sie nicht in unsere Nachbarschaft kommen, um sie zu zerstören.“ So lautet der Text eines Flyers der chassidischen BewohnerInnen von Williamsburg, New York 2010. Die Arbeit an der Zukunft findet ihre unmittelbare Situation im Jetzt. Eine Kulturhauptstadt braucht Visionen, der Strukturwandel echte Alternativen, die Konversionsflächen benötigen eine mentale Erweiterung. Die 1:1-Stadtmodelle der AG AST sind integrative Handlungsmodelle, die Gefahren der Zukunftsplanung berücksichtigen. Illusion und Erwartungsdruck führen leicht zu Täuschung, Enttäuschung und Angst. Planungsfehler ruinieren die Stadt. Wir brauchen Werkzeuge und Fähigkeiten, die uns beherzt am eigenen Ast sägen lassen, wir den Fall riskieren, unten sicher ankommen, um uns mit Säge und Holz neu zu organisieren. Im Sinne Carl Einsteins – „Wunder sind eine Frage des Trainings“ – ist die AG AST im Training und am Üben mit den Beteiligten. Das Augenmerk richtet sich 2013 auf die Freudenheimer Au. Zurück zur Natur übers Wochenende oder klar bemessene Schritte Richtung Selbstversorgertum? Die anliegende Kleingartensiedlung wird zum Ausgangspunkt für die Entwicklung kompromissloser Strategien im Umgang mit posturbaner Raumaufteilung und multisensibler Flächennutzung. Im August 2013 dient der Kleingarten als gelebter Modellversuch der Sorge – um sich, um die Stadt und um die Wurzeln und Früchte der Zukunft. Ein Beitrag der AG AST für das „Wunder der Prärie“-Festival 2013 dehnt sich bis 2030. Die Dramatisierung des Alltags als radikale und doch unspektakuläre Form der existenziellen Aufführung spielt sich in der Wohngemeinschaft am Brunnengarten 10, dem Garten von Dieter Gozdzik, Gartenfreunde Verein Au e.V., und versetzt im Festivalzentrum „zeitraumexit“ in der Hafenstraße ab. Pflanzen führen sich im Wildkräutergarten und auf dem Balkon der Wohnanlage auf. Die Beeinflussung der Landschaft durch den Menschen und in der Umkehrung die Beeinflussung des Menschen durch die Landschaft führen zu einer inneren Gartenschau. Dritte einfache psychotektonische Übung: Mit Tabakrauch blasen wir zeitweilig aus dem Begriff „Ahnung“ ein „h“ in den Begriff Planung. Wenn Sie das „ha“ als „h“ hauchen, sind Zwerchfell und Lunge beteiligt. Der tiefere Atmungsbereich vokalisiert den Buchstaben. Die transfumare Planungspraxis verbindet mithilfe von Rauchritualen den zukünftigen Raumzustand mit dem gegenwärtigen. Planungsrauchen: Ein Edelstahlrohr mit ca. acht Millimeter Durchmesser und einer Länge von ca. zwei Metern ermöglicht es, den Tabakrauch vom Körper weg in den Raum zu richten (Richtungsrauchen). Der gerichtete Rauch wird in die vier Richtungen geblasen: Ost, West, Süd, Nord. Dann nach oben und nach unten gerichtet. Die siebente Richtung ist Planumkehr, die den Rauch auf den Ausgangskörper selbst richtet. Regelmäßiges Planungsrauchen verändert den Zustandsraum im Planungskörper.

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Einfache psychotektonische Übungen, Georg Winter

FREIES HANDELN IN BESETZTEN RÄUMEN: ZUR ZUKUNFT KÜNSTLERISCHER PRAXIS ZWISCHEN KUNST, STADT UND PLANUNG [ Markus Ambach ]

Exhibition opening with a drift challenge by Jochen Reich: burn-out with pink smoke with a sweet smell of lavender, parking lot at Dückerweg, 2010;

Die Frage nach Instrumentalisierung der Kunst tritt in einer Konsensgesellschaft, in der jede Nachricht eine gute ist, in den Hintergrund. (Selbst-)Kritisches wie Partizipatives füllt längst die sozial verträglichen Wunschzettel des Citymarketings, der Städte, der Kommunen. Wie kann man jenseits der Virtualität stadtadministrativen Mitgefühls mitten im Zentrum Handlungsräume öffnen, in denen man dem städtischen Umfeld auf Augenhöhe begegnet, um mit ihm die Syntax der Stadt zu verändern? Auf diese Frage haben künstlerisch organisierte Projekte und Projekträume im städtischen Kontext in den letzten Jahren vielfältige Antworten gegeben. Da, wo klassische Planungsstrukturen an ihre Grenzen stoßen, wo stadtadministrative Vorgehensweisen nicht mehr in der Lage sind, den komplexen Gemengelagen städtischer Sequenzen und Problemzonen nahe genug zu kommen, um sie in geeigneter Weise zu aktualisieren, haben es künstlerische Projekte geschafft, die immer größer werdende Lücke zwischen städtischem Leben, Planung und Verwaltung zu schließen. Praxisbeispiel: B1|A40 In dieser Perspektive sehen sich die Entwicklungen der künstlerischen Projektplattform MAP. Am Beispiel des Projekts „B1|A40 Die Schönheit der großen Straße“ zeigt sich, wie konsequent entlang eines spezifischen Kontexts entwickelte Inhalte und Projektstrukturen zu einer tiefgreifenden Einbettung künstlerischer Argumentationen in reale Lebenswelten führen können. Das Projekt beschäftigt sich seit mittlerweile sieben Jahren mit einem äußerst prekären Stadtraum. Entlang der Autobahn A40 als der zentralen Verkehrsachse des Ruhrgebiets hat sich im Schatten der Zentren zwischen Duisburg und Dortmund ein eigenwilliger Stadtraum generiert. Die im Rückraum der Autobahn liegenden, hochproblematischen Orte und städtischen Sequenzen werden durch das prognostizierte Verschmelzen der Ruhrstädte unvermittelt von der Peripherie zum Zentrum werden. In dieser einmaligen Umkehrung wird die „Große Straße“ vom problematischen Verkehrsraum zum ambivalenten Boulevard der Ruhrstadt. Analog dazu erscheinen Räume und Strategien im Umgang mit urbanen Situationen im Fokus, die sich dezentral im Schatten des öffentlichen Interesses entwickelt haben. Strategien der individuellen Raumaneignung und selbst regulierte soziokulturelle Biotope in den Zwischenräumen von Stadt und Verkehrsinfrastruktur sind nur einige Phänomene, die diesen Raum umschreiben. Das Projekt B1|A40 befragt diese Raumgefüge auf ihre Strukturen und deren Bedingungen hin: Wie generieren sich Räume jenseits zielgerichteter

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Freies Handeln in besetzten Räumen, Markus Ambach

rung in anarchisch-bürgerlicher Selbstverantwortung. Im Schatten der Autobahn entsteht unbemerkt eine parallele Lebenswelt, die in der Realität der Orte zur Ablösung von der virtuellen Welt der politischen Zentren und Märkte neigt und ein polypolitisches Feld zu begründen scheint, das in Zukunft spezifiziert werden muss. Kontextspezifische Projektstrukturen Die eigens für diese Landschaft entwickelten Projektstrukturen bestimmen dabei eine neue künstlerische Praxis, die darauf Wert legt, speziell für jeden Kontext eine spezifische Vorgehensweise zu entwickeln. Wo Planung zu oft mit ein und demselben Muster versucht, äußerst heterogene Räume zu bearbeiten, entwickeln künstlerische Projekte wie B1|A40 die gesamte Projektstruktur entlang des gegebenen Kontexts. Dieser bestimmt damit nicht nur den Inhalt, sondern auch die Form der Arbeit, die Organisationsstrukturen und die Auswahl der KoopertionspartnerInnen. Um dies zu ermöglichen, ist eine langfristige, feinmaschige Recherche vor Ort notwendig, wie sie sich Administrationen und Planungsämter der Städte kaum leisten können, die wohl aber im Interessenfeld von KünstlerInnen liegen. Hier bestehen synergetische Möglichkeiten. Das detaillierte Eintauchen in den spezifischen Kontext über mehrere Jahre und zu verschiedensten Zeiten ermöglicht ein genaues Erfassen auch solcher Landschaften, die dauerhaft im Umbruch sind und deren ProtagonistInnen nur wenige bleibende Zeichen ihres Tuns hinterlassen. Dauerhafte Forschungsprojekte, wie sie gerade im aktuellen Teil des Projekts durchgeführt werden, fokussieren hier beispielhaft langfristige Entwicklungen in diesem durch Fluktuation, Mobilität und Flüchtigkeit geprägten Raum.

Jeanne van Heeswijk, Der Widerstand des kleinen Glücks (The Resistance of Small Happiness), Kaiserberg highway junction, Werthacker estate; wood, various materials, 2010. Courtesy: Jeanne van Heeswijk

Planungsinteressen und Nutzungszuordnungen? Welche Räume entstehen unter der Maßgabe weitgehender Unsichtbarkeit und relativer Selbstverantwortung ihrer Protagonisten? Wie wirkt sich das Fehlen politischer und ökonomischer Aufmerksamkeit auf die Gestaltung von Räumen aus? Entwickeln sich andere Ökonomien unter diesen speziellen „klimatischen“ Bedingungen? Bieten selbst regulierte Räume auch übertragbare Lösungsvorschläge für die Planung, und welche Vermittlungsleistungen sind hier notwendig? B1|A40 untersucht diese Fragen im interdisziplinären Dialog mit KünstlerInnen, PlanerInnen, ArchitektInnen, WissenschaftlerInnen und den AnliegerInnen vor Ort direkt im Kontext des Stadtraums A40. Das Projekt zeigt durch künstlerische Interventionen und interdisziplinäre Projekte Perspektiven und Handlungsmöglichkeiten auf, die eine direkte Wirkung auf den Planungsprozess entwickeln sollen. Die ersten Ergebnisse dieser Arbeit manifestierten sich in einer Ausstellung im öffentlichen Raum der A40 von Duisburg bis Dortmund zur Kulturhauptstadt Europas Ruhr 2010 (www.b1a40.de). Eine der wesentlichen Erkenntnisse der ersten Arbeitsphase ist, dass die Menschen unter den spezifischen Bedingungen dieses Raumes, im subtilen Milieu politischen und ökonomischen Desinteresses eine neue selbstverwaltete, vernakuläre Landschaft entwickeln. Zwischen Schrebergärten und Kulturproduktion, Individualökonomie und Schattenwirtschaft, Fischzucht und Tunertreff entsteht entlang des reinen Gebrauchs des Raumes eine Landschaft, in der Selbstverantwortung und soziale Kompetenz eine erstaunliche Renaissance erfahren. Denn die sich nahezu selbst überlassenen Orte fallen nicht ins Chaos, sondern produzieren einen Raum subtiler Selbstregulie-

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Kooperation statt Partizipation: Zusammen arbeiten Die genaue Kenntnis der Orte, die Präsenz der Projektleitung vor Ort und die engagierte Kommunikation mit den lokalen ProtagonistInnen ermöglicht dazu nicht nur eine subtile und genaue Einschätzung der betreffenden Kontexte, sondern auch die Beteiligung ihrer BewohnerInnen und NutzerInnen als PartnerInnen auf Augenhöhe. Entscheidungen wie die, lokale ProtagonistInnen mit ihren Arbeits- und Lebensentwürfen direkt mit in das Projekt einzu beziehen, definieren einen neuen, nachbarschaftlichen Dialog zwischen Kunst und Stadt. Statt partizipativer Projekte, bei denen das Verhältnis immer von latenten Hirarchien zwischen (aktiv) Handelndem und (reagierend) Teilnehmenden geprägt ist, trafen sich die Kunstprojekte und die Entwürfe der BewohnerInnen in einem ebenbürtigen Verhältnis. Sie etablierten dabei einen Diskurs, der sich in den verschiedenen Nachbarschaften, dem subtilen Nebeneinander zwischen Kunst, Alltagspraxis, Stadt und Landschaft seine Argumentation sucht. Freies Agens vs. Assimilation So zeigt das Projekt, was an zahlreichen Orten in großer Vielfalt und Heterogenität von KünstlerInnen in städtischen Räumen praktiziert wird. Diese Projekte, die von KünstlerInnen eigenständig und mit selbstgewählten KooperationspartnerInnen erarbeitet werden, leben ganz im Besonderen von den ureigenen Qualitäten künstlerischer Arbeit, die über sie Eingang in städtische Diskurse findet. Dabei spielen Qualitäten eine Rolle, die anderen Arbeitsformen und Diskursen oft fremd sind. Wo bespielsweise wissenschaftliche Arbeitsweisen

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Grenzen stoßen, wird künstlerisches Handeln oft aktiv, sichtbar und effektiv. Dabei versteht sich der Wunsch nach künstlerischer Autonomie hier nicht als Ablehnung und Konfrontation, sondern als Angebot. Denn an der Schnittstelle zwischen Kunst und Planung, Verwaltung und selbstbeauftragtem Handeln, Politik und Selbstverantwortung, Zweckökonomie und Mut zum Risiko entwickelt sich ein aktueller Dialog, der auf Augenhöhe geführt werden muss, um seine Möglichkeiten entfalten zu können. Wenn Verwaltung, Planung und Politik die originären Qualitäten und Leistungen künstlerischer Arbeit im öffentlichen Raum und ihre Bedingungen als eigenständig anerkennen, anstatt sie unter ihren Strukturen zu subsummieren, beginnt ein produktiver Dialog auf einer neuen Ebene. Wenn sich die AkteurInnen in einem partnerschaftlichen Verhältnis organisieren, das jenseits von Angleichung und Assimilation seine Sprache in den Nachbarschaften, Nebeneinandern und Diversitäten sucht, entsteht der Dialog einer neuen Urbanität.

Atelier van Lieshout, Motel Bochum, Bochum, Dückerweg parking lot, 1998–2010; various materials. Courtesy: Atelier van Lieshout

einer rationalen wie objektiven Logik verpflichtet sind, integrieren künstlerische Konzepte Elemente wie Subjektivität und Diskontinuität, Intuition und Zufallspoetik. Planerischer Übersichtslogik stellen sie die Möglichkeiten filigraner Recherchen und detailgenauer Studien anbei. Dem Bedürfnis der Subsummierung komplexer Gemengelagen unter vereinfachende Metastrukturen schlagen sie eine Reflexion städtischer Heterogenitäten in komplexen Handlungsmustern vor. Ökonomische Rechenmodelle, die nur kleine Teile der urbanen Realität erfassen und erreichen, konfrontieren sie mit Konzepten selbstbeauftragten Handelns, lokalen Kleinstökonomien oder dezentral organisierten Netzwerken. Globale Ansprüche modernen Citymarketings stellen sie in subtile Nachbarschaft zu lokalen, subjektiven Bedürfnissen individueller Stadtproduktion. Die Isolation der Gated Communitys befragen sie durch selbstinitiierte Lernprozesse in prekären Randlagen, die zu einer Renaissance sozialer Kompetenz in heterogen bewohnten Stadtvierteln führen. Der Erfolgsökonomie initiativen Handelns stellen sie auch Faktoren wie Scheitern, Aufgeben und Neudenken als kreativen Prozess gegenüber. Diese Strategien bieten sich als neue Partnerinnen für die Entwicklung zukünftiger Urbanität an. Sie als frei agierendes Agens innerhalb der Stadt zu ermöglichen, sollte ein Ziel unserer Bemühungen sein. Ihre Subsummierung unter klassische Arbeitsformate, ihre Institutionalisierung oder ihre Integration in städtische Administrationen, wie sie heute in Deutschland mancherorts betrieben wird, ist dabei kontraproduktiv. Denn gerade da, wo die Praktiken der Administration, der Stadtplanung und der Marketingökonomien an ihre

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Freies Handeln in besetzten Räumen

Freies Handeln in besetzten Räumen Denn die beschriebenen Qualitäten künstlerischer Arbeit entspringen gerade aus einer neuen Autonomie der Kunst, die den Begriff nicht mehr auf eine dekontextualisierte Selbstdarstellung von KünstlerInnen bezieht, sondern auf ein freies Handeln in besetzten Räumen. Eine künstlerische Praxis, die ihre konsequente Kontextualität nicht nur anerkennt, sondern sich dauerhaft im Dialog mit ihrem Umfeld sieht, bewahrt sich eben im Begriff der Autonomie die notwendige Handlungsfreiheit: die Freiheit zur unvorhersehbaren Entscheidung, die Freiheit der Wahl der Mittel, der Denkprozesse und Handlungsstrukturen. Sie behält sich die Möglichkeit der Wahl der adäquaten PartnerInnen, der Themen und der Räume, anstatt sich dem Gesetz der Notwendigkeit unterzuordnen. Wo Administration und Politik zwangsläufig einer Zweckökonomie sozialer, ökonomischer und politischer Bedürfnisse folgen, speist gerade künstlerisches Handeln die irreguläre und gesellschaftsverändernde Möglichkeit des aktuell nicht Vorstellbaren in städtisches Denken ein. Und dies nicht im Sinne der Utopie, sondern entlang einer kühlen Handlungsstruktur, die unvermittelt, selbstvergessen und direkt dem Subtext des Raumes folgt. Der Romantik der Vision (des Einzelnen) stellt sie damit ein ergebnisoffenes Handeln und Denken (der Stadtgesellschaft) gegenüber, das außerhalb der individuellen Vorstellungswelt den Linien, Erzählungen und Poesien des Stadtraums folgt, den irregulären Entwürfen, Rissen, Durchzeichnungen und filigranen Gebrochenheiten städtischer Heterogenität.

Finger, Honig von der Pumpstation (Honey from the pumping station), Kaiserberg highway junction, 2010, various materials, bees, honey. Courtesy: Finger

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Markus Ambach

– NOVEMBER 2013, NUMBER 1 –

THE DREAM CITY by Christoph Schäfer

The dream city, as is fitting for such places, was located on an island. It was separated from the city center by a train station, in the shadow of two postmodern towers already outdated long before their completion, whose arched gables and antiqued columns might have appeared in the film of Ayn Rand’s Fountainhead as a monumental warning against aesthetic corruption. Aesthetic, artistic, ecological, social and political corruption pose, however, take a different guise nowadays, with a whole new arsenal of weapons we will attempt to analyze here. But first... The ground of the island (Isola) was still contaminated with the chemicals left behind by the Brown-Boveri company.

“Sgentrification” Drawing by Maddalena Fragnito

It had been forgotten and neglected for decades. Nevertheless (or precisely because of this), an urban paradise emerged, which no one could have ever dreamed of: it had an arcade, as in Walter Benjamin’s Arcades Project; it was a place of the Multitude, such as Negri & Hardt themselves could have never pictured more beautifully. It was inhabited by differences, contradictions even, in a density that would have made Georg Simmel, Henri Lefebvre and the Situationist International do a reunification dance of happiness. And at the sides of this grubby palace of dreams and devaluated practices there were two parks that turned the abandoned and then revitalized factory “Stecca degli Artigiani” into a magnificent castle, though it was a castle without a master or lords, instead animated and used by motorcycle mechanics, artists, craftspeople and a “Sans-Papiers” from Africa; by selforganized action groups, organizations for the handicapped, Marxists and hedonist adolescents, a self-organized organic food shop, a movie theater, exhibitions, clandestine pleasures and public celebrations, a gray market, sunbathing on the roof and by the people living around it. It could have gone on like this, since Milan

deserved and needed a place just like this one. But the outlook was dark from the beginning. The rulers interested in the demolition of this situation were pushing the scales ruthlessly to one side with their assembled weight; they had the wherewithal, they owned the properties, they controlled most of the media, the law was – as always – on their side, and the administrative and political power was in the reactionary hands of Forza Italia and Lega Nord. The strategic counterweight the users of the Stecca could bring to the faceoff was a broad, deep network in the district, and their inventive talent, inspired by art. The argument of art had special weight, because Isola Art Center – planned and provisionally organized in the Stecca for years – not only did great work, but also filled a gap for the entire city, namely the lack of an exhibition space for contemporary art outside of the commercial galleries, established museums and foundations. In Germany, for example – and Italian artists know this – every small town has a Kunstverein, basically an independent exhibition space. In the Art Metropolis of Milan this does not exist.

The Isola park in 2005 with in the background the installation ‘Untitled/Untilted’ by Bert Theis. The park and the old factory ‘La Stecca’ have been privatized and destroyed in 2007 by the American real estate company Hines.

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But the practice of Isola Art Center went even further than such examples of exhibition spaces: it was a place where ideas developed, where an uninvited art of interference with urban structures, self-organized and collective, could find resonance, be picked up and developed further. The artists, cooperating with the residents, managed to make the spot the talk of the town. They organized alternative plans to the demolition programs of the investors and turned the land surrounding their occupied space into parks provided with sculptures (no hippiecrap, by the way, but sharp, cuttingedge work). Together the community created a social and ecological resource for the district, planted illegally immigrated palm trees, organized productions of desires and planning workshops with children and adults, founded out (the Office for Urban Transformation), sang songs by Adriano Celentano to the decision-making city officials (in a choir in the Zone Council) – and so they shifted the weight and pub-

lic opinion more and more in their direction. But the rulers were not dumb, and if they could not convince the Isola residents to go along with their contemptuous plans, at least they could try to divide the neighborhood: divide et impera was already, over 2000 years ago, a household word in this part of the world. The attack was launched exactly in the field that the Isola residents had successfully dominated till then: the field of critical, socially committed, politically interfering art. The key role in this plot was played by the architect Stefano Boeri, who made a name for himself as a critical artist through his work with the group Multiplicity (their most popular work, the video installation “Solid Sea”, seems in retrospect like a target-group project cleverly designed for the politically correct art scene, exploiting the content of the social movement without having any connection with it. At first Boeri pretended to be a supporter of the “Stecca degli Artigiani”, and spoke at a panel saying that the situation in

the Stecca was absolutely worth preserving and that he would fight for it. But Boeri’s words were not worth a penny. Only a few months later, he provided a contradictory Master Plan by order of the international developer Hines and the city council of Milan, and sold the result to the public as a compromise. Then he was rewarded with a big piece of the cake: the architect was commissioned to plan and design two highrise buildings on the area of the former parks. Of course Boeri, like his predecessors, called for complete demolition of the Stecca, putting the buildings in the two parks and, as a token concession to the occupiers, suggesting a spectacular Art Center that he would design himself.Sadly, the outcome is known: parts of the action groups let the politicians wrap them around their fingers, the police pushed drug dealers into the quarter and launched a cleansing campaign against the Stecca, and the remaining resistance was not strong enough to prevent the ensemble from being torn down.

GENTRIFICATION, ART AND THE RIGHT TO THE CITY by Mara Ferreri, Davide Caselli

Discussing gentrification means focusing on all those inhabitants, existing and prospective, which are displaced by a city that is increasingly built and transformed according to top-down blueprints of urban development. It also means acknowledging the tension between a system of urban development centred on profit, and the political and social question of the right to the city as an action carried out from the bottom up by local inhabitants who reclaim and create social spaces through new practices of use, as well as through the production of new meanings and imaginaries. The question is therefore not whether the change was soft or brutal, but rather whether it was

possible for individuals and communities to stay put and feel ownership of a place, be it a green space, a building, a neighbourhood or a city. With the exponential increase of housing costs in central and semi-central areas of Milan, and with the erasure and exclusion of spaces and inhabitants that do not fit into the logic of the emerging city, it is evident that the arrival of the Porta Nuova project contributed to the erosion of the rights of Isola inhabitants to create lived spaces, in contrast with those imagined and designed for the upper middle classes, whose tastes and expectations are currently moulding and homogenising too many contemporary cities.

FROM THE WHITE CUBE TO THE DIRTY CUBE

FROM SITE-SPECIFIC TO FIGHT-SPECIFIC ART

The dirty cube concept is strictly connected to the Platform concept, form of open organization allowing artists, activists, curators, theorists, individuals, different persons and collectives to freely carry out their own proposals and projects in a fight-specific frame. The platform is not a collective having defined members: collectives have joined the platform either sporadically or over the long term. Neither is it an “artist-run space”. As a matter of fact, there is no director or curator who has the last word on the program or the projects to be carried out. Decisionmaking is horizontal and rhizomatic. Isola Art Center is a conceptual platform. It has to be handled in a different way than the wooden platforms, where my work finishes once they are installed. Conceptual platforms are driven by energy. They need every two, three years a new generation that uses them for new projects. Without this energy, the platform dies.

Edith Poirier, mural for “Isola Pepe Verde in festa”, 2012

Dan Perjovschi, drawing for Isola Rosta Project 1, 2007

Dispersed center is derived from the concept of dispersed museum coined by Charles Esche. From 2007 to 2012 this new form of presence has made it possible for us to be more active in the life of the zone, as compared to the past. Thanks to the “Isola Rosta Project” the center used the storefront shutters as a new exhibition site, allowing art and criticism of urban projects to be displayed in public space. The dispersed center is currently aiming at fulfilling its fight specific objectives, denouncing gentrification processes and collaborating with the new Isola Pepe Verde movement to gain a self-managed green community area and to make the dream of having a center for art and for the neighborhood come true. After five years of operating as a dispersed center, we have the same feeling again, that we have tried almost everything, so hopefully the new situation will lead to new experiences and concepts Our work is about permanent experimentation, not about creating models, hoping that others can find ideas and inspiration for their own urban practice from it.

THE DISPERSED CENTER

Camilla Pin, “gentri(fy) + -fication”. Intervention throughout the neighborhood, 2011

The concept of fight-specific art has been coined by Isola Art Center. The center is inserted in a context of urban conflict, where it intervenes alongside the residents in a situation of mobilization. Therefore the project is not just specific to the site, in a strictly spatial sense, nor is it simply relational, in a social sense. It is specific to the struggle of those who work and live in that site. Hence the conceptual shift theorized as a definition of an unprecedented operative mode: from site-specific to fight-specific art. In this struggle, the occupation of the Stecca and the parks (2003-2007) is fundamental; they become the venue of many permanent art works and temporary projects. After the

loss of the Stecca and the parks in 2007, things continue in a fight-specific way. “Isola Rosta Project” communicates directly with the neighborhood: associations, shops, and restaurants provide their spaces and shutters for the drawings of the artists invited by Isola Art Center. The fight-specificity can also be achieved through various forms of intervention: the posters of Mirko Smerdel “Your Skyscrapers will be rubble before they are even built” projected at the bookshop of

the district; the incursion of Fabrizio Bellomo inside the construction site for planting an illegal vegetable garden; the launch of the seed bombs produced by Public Works in the space reclaimed by Isola Pepe Verde; the artists’ participation in a protest action by Forum Isola at the District Council; the presentation of the Lavoratori dell’Arte (Art Workers) at a meeting by Isola Art Center, before they give life to Macao, occupying the Torre Galfa.

MACAO

On Saturday 5 May 2012 a hundred “Art Workers”, including many of the artists and curators of Isola Art Center, gathered in Isola and then walked down via Pola to reach the Galfa skyscraper. The tower had been empty for fifteen years for reasons of speculation, and is owned by the Ligresti Group, which together with Hines is the main force behind the construction in the Isola, Garibaldi-Repubblica and Varesine areas. Here the “Art Workers” open Macao, a new center for the arts, culture and research in Milan. In one week thousands of persons entered the building, participating in assemblies and work tables. (...) Hundreds of people who after the eviction remained in the street in front of the skyscraper, blocking traffic and creating what was known as Piazza Macao. The activity that had begun inside the tower continued in the street: meetings, university lectures, concerts, performances, production of a mobile stage... The daily arrival of visitors increased, and for a free concert by a hundred young musicians the crowd in the street swelled, containing about 10,000 persons. (...) After these events, Macao occupied Palazzo Citterio, an 18th-century building in the center of Milan, from which the occupants were evicted two days later by the police and the army. The group then occupied an empty former slaughterhouse owned by the City of Milan, at via Molise 68.

A HYPOTHESIS FOR THE FUTURE Marco Senaldi, “L’Isola che non c’è (più), Exibart, June 2007

Since 2008 the objective of a self-managed social space no longer seems feasible in the places that are by now being altered by the gentrification project of Hines. Nevertheless, the movement from below that is the spirit of Isola continues to exist, driven above all by the lack of green areas for the activities of the neighborhood families. The shared desire is to concentrate energies to gain a new municipally owned space and to transform it into a community park. Such an area is found in a fragmented space, which includes a zone abandoned by a former construction materials storage yard, a fenced-off lawn and a parking area, between via Borsieri, via Pepe and the Bussa

overpass. One of the positive aspects of the space is the fact that it is close to two schools, and the central fulcrum of the neighborhood. Activists of Isola Art Center, Comitato I Mille and the Confalonieri Parents’ Association take part in the project, together with newly mobilized inhabitants, acting under the name of Isola Pepe Verde. The movement is successfull: On May 2013, the Apriti Isola Pepe Verde opening party is an opportunity for Isola Art Center to intervene with “Occupying Horizons”, a fight-specific project. Finally Isola has regained a self-governed, green, social and cultural space in the shadow of mountains of concrete, steel and glass.

ISOLA PEPE VERDE Photo by Camilla Topuntoli, taken from ‘A little bird told me...’ 2013

Hines does not listen to reason, the City of Milan gives in to Yankee imperialism, and a formidable tower in the form of a pistachio nut is erected by a famous Italian artist (whose identity remains unknown, for obvious reasons...). A few decades pass in the shadow of this symbol of social repression, but as a result of repeated attacks on similar towers, often owned by Hines, the investors soon abandon the offices located in the building. Hines goes bankrupt: after a short while all its properties have been sold off, and in the general slump of the real estate market that continues in 2020 this type of building, which no one wants, falls into a state of decay and ruin. Left to their own devices, the spaces of the tower become first a headquarters for drug dealers, and then they are occupied by a group of counter-cultural artists who call themselves Isola Art Center Remastered.

Edna Gee, drawing taken from ‘The Vertical Jungle-First Draft’ 2013

FIGHT-SPECIFIC ISOLA Art, Architecture, Activism and the Future of the City Edited by Isola Art Center

Texts by Atelier d’Architecture Autogérée, Marco Biraghi, Antonio

Brizioli, Charles Esche, Mara Ferreri e Davide Caselli, Vincenzo Latronico, Isabell Lorey, Steve Piccolo, Gerald Raunig, Christoph Schäfer, Mariette Schiltz, Marco Scotini, Bert Theis, Tiziana Villani.

Fight-Specific Isola traces the long history of the Isola area of Milan and the organic, spontaneous progress of the Isola Art Center over the past 12 years. Featuring texts and many images, the book tells the story of an artistic and urban transformation, led by artists, who often had to invent tools and concepts along the way. This publication serves as an example of how to act on the ground in today’s urban condition. Different narratives of history, artistic intervention and action allow the reader to trace the complex idea of collectivity, solidarity and fight-specificity. Testing new terms such as dirty cube and dispersed center this book shows a possible way to respond to the constant pressure of neoliberal development and gentrification. You can order the book writing an email to info@isolartcenter.org or to mail@archivebooks.org

25€ softcover 19x26 cm 432 pages colors In english or italian

www.isolartcenter.org Facebook: Isola Art Center All texts are excerpts from the book Fight-Specific Isola. Edna Gee, Edith Poirier, Mariette Schiltz, Bert Theis and Camilla Topuntoli edited Fight-Specific Isola Journal 1, graphic design by Daniele Rossi. Photos by Bert Theis.

“Missing Things” is neither a scientific category, nor a typical congress topic. Missing things are abundant and diverse. They are subject to personal valuation. They are sometimes visible, sometimes invisible—especially in contested areas like Lexington Market in Baltimore. “The First World Congress of the Missing Things” was conceived in response to a call by EUNIC and Bromo Arts and Entertainment District in Baltimore. {01} It was realized at the Lexington Market subway station entrance, next to the “World Famous Lexington Market”—a historical landmark that has become an unfortunate indicator of the absence of social welfare in the nation. Lexington Market is located in the once bustling city center, neglected since the 1950s due to “white flight”. Baltimore is a shrinking city. Undertaking a massive urban development project, it began regenerating the inner harbor area as a major tourist attraction in the early 1980s {02}. Today, the adjacent and formerly lively city center with its luxurious department stores remains boarded up. In October of 2013, the Bromo Arts and Entertainment District {03} became the last of three such districts in Baltimore established in an endeavor to regenerate Howard Street and the surrounding area. The starting point for developing an art project within this highly disputed context was the question of whether or not art has a function (and if so, what kind of function?), and if it should become involved in current societal and urban issues. The project was partly funded by ArtPlace, a program initiated by the National Endowment for the Arts under President Obama. The goal of ArtPlace is to counteract community deficiencies arising from the lack of a social system and the enormous inequalities generated by the neo-liberal economy. The expectations of the program—to use art to facilitate

Howard Street, Baltimore, 2014

Such as a dinner party at Current Space; http://www.currentspace.com: Michael Benevento from current space was a major collaborator on the congress.

03 http://www.promotionandarts.org/arts-council/bromo-arts-entertainment-districts

For an analysis of the problematic effects of the regeneration of the inner harbor on the city of Baltimore, see A Survivor’s Guide to Baltimore’s Renaissance: Baltimore Citizens Discuss Their Experiences of Urban Renewal, Grant Kester, 1992

01 At the invitation of Anton Falkeis, Head of Social Design at the University of Applied Arts, Vienna, the congress was realized with students Marie-Christin Rissinger, Elisabeth Stephan, and Julian Verocai in Baltimore. Contributions to the opening ceremony were made by Lucia Hofer and Marit Wolters. An additional project was carried out by Nika Kupyrova (student of TransArts at the University of Applied Arts) and Simone Klien performed at the closing ceremony. The project is part of TRANSIT, an initiative of the Washington, D.C. cluster of the European Union National Institutes for Culture and the Baltimore Office of Promotions & the Arts, and supported by a grant from the European Union. The European cultural institutes involved are: the Austrian Cultural Forum, British Council, Goethe-Institut, and the Embassy of Spain. The project is also supported by a grant from ArtPlace America, a collaboration of leading national and regional foundations, banks, and federal agencies accelerating the establishment of creative spaces throughout the U.S. Additional support for the congress is provided by the Maryland Transit Administration.

[ Barbara Holub ]

THE FIRST WORLD CONGRESS OF THE MISSING THINGS

Small performances announcing the congress

the bridging of these gaps—would reduce art to another commodity, a good perpetuating the interests of the neo-liberal economy. It would go from providing a social service to being part of a “creative economy” intended to create new business. A project fulfilling these expectations would not only hollow out the role of art in questioning overall context, but also runs the danger of intensifying gentrification processes if not embedded in a long-term strategy. So the question was how to develop a critically engaged project that uses the opportunity to contribute to the revitalization of a neighborhood while maintaining the premise of prioritizing social revitalization as a key goal. I therefore decided to create a congress, handing responsibility and giving voice to the people of Baltimore, to the people already using this urban space (mainly homeless persons, drug addicts, and ex-convicts), as well as to the people of the municipality and to anyone else interested in participating in a publicly accessible congress in urban public space. “The First World Congress of the Missing Things” shifted the usual setting of a congress, often exclusive and dominated by the division of “panel” and “audience”, by creating a spatial rhizomatic structure enabling non-hierarchical communication. In this inclusive situation, one-to-one communication was enhanced and topics were presented simultaneously without differentiating between “experts” and “audience”. In a process that took place before the congress, the people of Baltimore were invited to contribute their ideas and opinions about missing things to be published on the website www.missingthings.org. Information was distributed at events {04}, at a table set up at Lexington Market for the purpose of engaging in one-to-one conversations and by attending events and generally spreading the word through people engaged in Baltimore as multipliers. The director of Bromo Arts and Entertainment District, Priya Bhayana, had set up events for me to get introduced to the local community, to artists and cultural producers during my previous research visit. By asking the public to shape its content, the congress emphasized the democratic right to participate in public decisionmaking and the shaping of our society. “The First World Congress of the Missing Things” wanted to counteract the division of society and dominant decision-making processes by handing a voice over to the

Performances around Howard Street and Lexington Market announced the congress and invited people to submit their missing things.

Such as Priya Bhayana (Director of the Arts and Entertainment District), Staycie Francisco (Maryland Transit Administration), Nick Petr (The Alternative Press Center: http://www.altpress.org/mod/pages/display/4/index.php?menu=about), Jude Lombardi (http://jlombardi.net/gentrification_knot.html).

people. Enabling people to speak who are usually unheard, invisible, or reduced to being considered a “problem” or a disturbing factor in the otherwise seemingly functioning, dominant system. If art is to have the function of challenging urban societal issues, it is by using the position of coming from the outside as Europeans, by being unbiased and propagating different values, shifting expectations from “problem solving” to offering ways to empower local people and activate hidden potentials and spaces. This art project is also about creating poetic moments in an area of decline and poverty in addition to addressing weighty social and urban issues. “The First World Congress of the Missing Things” employed the transparadiso method of direct urbanism, which means involving artistic strategies in long-term urban development, at the very least as a vision, as in this case. For city authorities, this means becoming engaged in an open-ended process, one not finished when the artist leaves the site of intervention. Programs like ArtPlace are based on achieving measurable results. However, just such art projects as “The First World Congress of the Missing Things” must not be measured by quantifiable criteria or expected to deliver immediate results (such as crime rate reduction or rising property values). These are expectations that artists like myself intentionally do not want to comply with in order to avoid being instrumentalized. How can one measure the invaluable qualities of the personal conversations that took place during the congress, ones, for example, starting with the question, “I was born a slave, you were born a master. So how can we communicate?” People felt taken seriously, on an equal level, and opened up to the same extent that we, the European artists, did. We made use of our background—not being part of unresolved racial

and social issues—to create a situation of confidence. This was in and of itself a huge achievement and led to concrete first ideas evolving out of the congress. These ideas need to be heard by the municipality and subsequent steps must be taken sensitively so as to not betray the people who confided in us during the congress. Many individuals {05} and organizations that were intensely engaged in the project are striving to achieve change in the social and urban policies of Baltimore. In further processes, they need to continue to be involved in order to provide new perspectives for the people inhabiting the site, to make sure that “The First World Congress of the Missing Things” does not result in yet another example of being held responsible for involuntarily having contributed to a process resulting in gentrification. Despite the distance to Europe—the voices of artists from the outside could further a socially invested and sensible process of urban development by being involved on a durational level. “The First World Congress of the Missing Things” must not be confused with activism, even though it activates people by creating a setting within which people can take over the situation. It emphasizes fluid and changing roles, raising the question of what kind of expertise is needed for each specific occasion. Is there a way to overcome the current dichotomy between critically engaged art and activism, which reduces both rather than acknowledging the crucial differences? Artists active in this field could be considered “new urban practitioners”, transdisciplinary experts proposing controversial, unwanted, immeasurable, and poetic moments, enhancing communal cohabitation and a sense of community based on recognizing individuals from diverse backgrounds as able to contribute to a multi-faceted society. Instead of being implemented to mask social problems or being considered a speculative investment for the art market, the otherwise often under-recognized voice of art could thus regain a new position in society.

The First World Congress of the Missing Things, Baltimore, June 7–8, 2014

“The Charter of the Missing Things” was handed over to the mayor in a closing ceremony.

Setting of the congress at the entrance to Lexington Market MTA station

→ Workshop 02

Collaboration, Cooperation, Participation 162

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talk close again strong afraid beginning end suggest also found lack important necessary difficult unique yes tree risks fear open up learn / unlearn curate beautiful everything

Topics How do the aesthetics of critically committed projects relate to social | socio-political expectations? | Under what conditions should we cooperate, how, with whom and for whom? | How is artistic production generated between an independence / a view from “outside” / a different expertise and the expectation of the client? | Is consensus always a good thing? | How much involvement is essential? | What new paths exist or can be imagined between “bottom up” and “top down”? | Participatory projects and new cooperations between the space of possibility and the abyss? | How can conflicts and extraordinary methods of action become productive?

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BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE: CRITICAL CHALLENGES TO “NEW URBAN PRACTICES” [ Mick Wilson ]

The last ten years have seen an especially intense debate emerge around a range of practices that: (i) seek to overcome the traditional professional/ positional divisions of “artist”, “architect”, “planner”, “activist” and “urban designer”; and (ii) seek to do so in a way that engages directly with the socio-political dynamics of urban processes and the production of “new” urban areas. Often these practices are specifically framed as an attempt to bridge the opposition between the planning of urban areas and the active production of the unplanned and emergent unpredictable dynamics of urban life within these processes of urban renewal or extension. The oppositional political ambition of these projects—often connected to themes of grass-roots democracy, activism, collaboration and self-organisation—has been an especially prominent point of debate and critique. This often manifests in a critical description of projects as “co-opted”, “gentrifying”, and/or normalizing of the neoliberal state’s withdrawal from the production of “the public good” and radical privatization of “the social.” This ranges from moderate critique to much more vitriolic and damning opinions. Phillips’ and Erdemci’s (2012) Social Housing—Housing the Social: Art, Property and Spatial Justice presents a moderated form of critique: “For many years, artists have contributed to the design and organization of structures of living together, often with ambivalent effect. Whilst many have imagined—and attempted to implement—radical new forms of social housing as alternatives to both privatization and state provision, they have also ushered in waves of gentrification, thus contributing significantly to a story of capitalization now dominant within urban infrastructures.” A much more aggressive polemic is at work in BAVO’s critique of “NGO art” in texts such as (2007) Always Choose the Worst Option - Artistic Resistance and the Strategy of Over-Identification: “Faced with an open invitation extended by the same powerful players they used to criticize, artists have reconceptualized their role as socially engaged actors … Most symptom atic in this regard is the rise, over the past decade, of what might be called ‘NGO art’ … these art practices share the idea that, considering the many urgent needs at hand, there is no call for high art statements, big political manifestoes or sublime expressions of moral indignation. Instead what is

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Between a Rock and a Hard Place

The Urban Practitioner, Folke Köbberling/ Barbara Holub, installation at “Wandzeitung”, 2nd district, Vienna

needed are direct, concrete, artistic interventions that help disadvantaged populations and communities to deal with the problems they are facing … a growing army of artists who are travelling around the globe making their artistic-creative skills available for problem assessment and solving—sometimes even anticipating problems or creating problems to dynamize social processes. Whether it concerns the development of a cheap, sustainable and easy way for illegal communities on the border between the United States and Mexico to build their own housing (Estudio Teddy Cruz) or running a popular theatre in a third world slum (26’10 south Architects), all these projects betray a concern for social empowerment, for small, modest interventions that attempt to improve life in specific situations from the bottom up, in close interaction and participation with local actors and stakeholders … commitment is understood as the constant production of innovative micro-solutions—so-called ‘pocket revolutions’—to the real, everyday problems people encounter in their immediate life world. This constitutes a fundamental move away from any deep criticism … towards an art practice devoted to providing answers, solutions, toolkits and DIY manuals for the problems at hand, often in close cooperation with market players”. This workshop will look at how this critical debate might be encountered within the elaboration of particular projects and urban practices.

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Mick Wilson

OUR PERNICIOUS TEMPORALITY: EMBODIMENT AND THEORETICISM IN CONTEMPORARY ART [ Grant Kester ]

“Monologism … denies that there exists outside of it another consciousness, with the same rights, and capable of responding on an equal footing … the other remains entirely and only an object of consciousness and cannot constitute another consciousness. No response capable of altering everything in the world of my consciousness is expected of this other. The monologue is accomplished and deaf to the other’s response: it does not await it and does not grant it any decisive force.” —Mikhail Bakhtin, Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics (1961) {01}

I. Spontaneity and Premeditation

Mikhail Bakhtin, Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics, edited and translated by Caryl Emerson, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1984, p. 293.

In particular, it challenges the symptomatic displacement of modern aesthetics. This includes a temporal displacement, as the work of art addresses itself to a hypothetical sensus communis or viewer-yet-to-be rather than an actually existing audience (“eine reale Existenz”), along with a spatial displacement, as art recedes from broader public life and is assigned to its “proper” space in the museum or private gallery.

03 I address the distinction between “textual” and “dialogical” practices more fully in The One and the Many: Contemporary Collaborative Art in a Global Context, 2011, pp. 10–11 and 36.

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The past decade has witnessed the proliferation of collective and collaborative approaches to art making that have been variously labeled “relational”, “participatory”, and, in my own usage, “dialogical”. I view this shift as part of a broader re-articulation of the conventions of aesthetic autonomy. {02} This re-articulation has occurred along two axes. First, we see an increasingly open and reciprocal relationship between artists and practitioners working in related areas such as education, planning, urbanism and activism. Avantgarde artists in the past have typically taken up a more critical and adjudicative attitude towards adjacent modes of cultural production. This antagonism is rooted in the longer history of modernism, as art sought to preserve its unique identity by identifying a kitsch-like other against which it could define and differentiate itself. In a similar manner, as I’ve already noted, avant-garde artists have traditionally adopted a custodial relationship towards the viewer or audience. This attitude has also been challenged more recently, by dialogical and participatory approaches that deliberately thematize issues of authorial sovereignty and embrace a more reciprocal relationship between artist and viewer or participant. Within this broader participatory “turn” there is, of course, a continuum of approaches and practices. In my own research I’ve made a distinction between what I term “textual” or propositional approaches, in which the artist assigns primary creative agency to the a priori conceptualization or plan of a given work (as with Lewitt and Hirschhorn) and dialogical approaches, which view compositional agency as fluid and transposable over the course of a given creative process. {03} In the textual paradigm the work of art is understood, by and large, as an image, scene or event conceptualized by the artist beforehand and presented to a viewer. As such it exhibits a necessary formal unity and finitude (whether as a scripted procedure or as a spatial or material construction). It is a “thing”, shaped and planned beforehand and then set in place before the viewer.

Our Pernicious Temporality

In my research I differentiate this approach from the “dialogical” attitude of groups like Christoph Schäfer/Margit Csenki and their project “Park Fiction”, Dialogue, NICA, and Ala Plastica, which suggests that it’s possible to produce critical or counter-normative insight via a process of shared, rather than singularized, expression. Here the act of expression is generative and contingent. Rather than transmitting a pre-existing content, expression takes place through an unfolding process among an ensemble of collaborative agents. The locus of creative production is displaced from the level of independent ideation on the part of the artist to an indeterminate, collectively authored exchange among multiple interlocutors. The relative autonomy of each participant is alternately diminished and enhanced as the subjectivity of the viewer (distanced, critical, receptive) fluctuates with the subjectivity of the producer (immersive, haptic, participatory). As I’ve suggested for some time these practices require a new theoretical and analytic framework. Existing art theory and criticism have proven singularly ill equipped to address them without lapsing into certain unproductive binaries (the reductive opposition between “art” and “activism” or “aesthetics” and “ethics”, for example). An additional factor, as noted above, has been the reduction of concepts of “critique” to a simplistic model of cognitive disruption, which was initially appropriated from vanguard political discourse, only to become rapidly normalized into a rhetorical rather than a pragmatic form of speech. In my own efforts to think through the aesthetics of collaborative and participatory practice I’ve found it useful to draw on the tradition of “dialogical” analysis pioneered by the Russian philosopher and linguist Mikhail Bakhtin. In Marxism and the Philosophy of Language Volosinov identifies two dominant trends in linguistic thought. On the one hand is the (subjective) romanticism of Humboldt, Vossler, and Spitzer who focus on individual, “expressive” acts of speech and ignore the broader structuring logic of langue. And on the other hand is the “abstract objectivism” of Bally and Saussure, who only address the synchronically fixed system of language, neglecting entirely individual speech acts. For Bakhtin these two tendencies, while otherwise opposed, each overlook the fundamentally social and generative nature of utterance; one by treating it as wholly subjective and individual, and the other by viewing it as undeserving of sustained theoretical investigation. {04} While relatively few people today read Vossler, Saussure’s work, especially the Course on General Linguistics, would go on to exercise a significant influence on artists, critics and art historians educated over the past three decades. In particular, it gave additional theoretical authority to an evolving set of beliefs within contemporary art practice in which society was viewed as a vast network of semiotic and ideological regulation that served to constrain and condition individual acts of speech. Within this system the only truly unconstrained form of expression belongs to the artist or theorist, who is able to comprehend this totality, while at the same time devising forms of cognitive assault and deconstructive exposition capable of bringing others to some awareness of its existence. Thus the now well-established conventions of disclosure and revelation in contemporary art outlined above, with the artist serving as a nomadic agent of deconstruction wandering from site to site to expose the heretofore hidden contingency of meaning. In this scenario the viewer remains “only an object of consciousness”, as Bakhtin writes. As he continues, “No response capable of altering everything in the world of my consciousness is expected of this other. The monolog is accomplished and deaf to the other’s response: it does not await it and does not grant it any decisive force.” What would it mean,

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V.N. Volosinov, Marxism and the Philosophy of Language, translated by Ladislav Matejka and I.R. Titunik, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1986, pp. 45–63.

As I’ve already noted, Saussure famously imposed a strict barrier between the study of language and speech. As he writes, “language alone appears susceptible to autonomous definition, and it alone can provide the mind a satisfactory base of operations”. Ibid., p. 59.

For a more detailed discussion of the “original community of the land” (communio fundi originari) see Grant Kester, “Theories and Methods of Collaborative Art Practice,” in Ground works: Environmental Collaboration in Contemporary Art, (Pittsburgh: Regina Gouger Miller Gallery/University of Pittsburgh, 2005), pp.23–24. See http://groundworks.collinsandgoto. com/

During the early modern period philosophers such as John Locke sought to justify the emergence of contemporary forms of private property by postulating the existence of an a priori agreement to abandon the “original community of the land” (in which all land was shared in common), which was presumed to have occurred in the distant past. Kant’s sensus communis or Gemeinsinn acts as the telos for the aggregation of individual acts of disinterested aesthetic judgment in the present. See Grant Kester, The Faculty of Possession: Property and the Aesthetic in English Culture 1730 – 1850, Rochester, NY: University of Rochester, 1996, Ph.D. dissertation.

Mikhail Bakhtin, Toward a Philosophy of the Act, translated with notes by Vadim Liapunov, edited by Vadim Liapunov and Michael Holquist, Austin: University of Texas Press, 1993, p. 43, “My abstracting my own unique place in Being, my as it were disembodying of myself, is itself an answerable act or deed that is actualized from my own unique place… it must [eventually] be brought into correlation with my own uniqueness or singularity…”, pp. 48–49.

Ibid., pp. 40–41.

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then, for the artist to grant the other’s response a “decisive” force in the unfolding of their work? Saussure’s decision to ignore the diachronic event of utterance and focus instead on the synchronic fixity of langue opened up an extremely rich vein of theoretical investigation into the contingency of linguistic meaning, which continues to influence critical theory up to the present day. At the same time, in Bakhtin’s view, it marked a significant impoverishment of our understanding of human creativity. {05} By refusing to engage with the complexity and messiness of actual human dialog (“our pernicious temporality”, as Bakhtin describes it) Saussure reiterates a longer tradition within modern thought that seeks to impose abstract theoretical principles on the “un-repeatable singularity” of human existence. Bakhtin is in dialog here with Kant, and the concept of the categorical imperative as a way to orient moral behavior. For Kant our actions are justified not by their impact here and now but through an appeal to an a priori concept towards which actual behavior aspires, but which it never fully achieves. In this sense the categorical imperative parallels other metaphysical principles, the aesthetic sensus communis or the “original community of the land” in the natural law tradition, which are posited by a (non-corporeal) intelligence that is able to magically transcend the quotidian limitations of the present moment. {06} Here the philosopher gains the capacity to penetrate into the far distant past, or to project himself into the utopian future, in search of an “objective” foundational principle to justify our current actions in the world. {07} We are, in each case, in dialog not with other concrete subjects, but with an axiomatic principle, against which we measure our actions and determine their rightness, but which remains indifferent to, and uninflected by, these actions in their practical and situational unfolding. According to Bakhtin these principles can come to serve as “alibis” that we use to justify our behavior, our taste, or our beliefs, and which prevent us from taking responsibility for our actions in the here-and-now. They imply a position of historical transcendence and self-abstraction in which we abandon our “own unique place in Being” to a form of rootless, “non-incarnated” thought. As he continues, “Any thought that is not correlated with myself as the one who is obligatively unique is merely a passive possibility. It … has nothing compellent, irreplaceable about it.” {08} For Kant the linkage between an external a priori principle and internal, “compellent” feeling (desire) is accomplished by disinterested aesthetic experience, through which we intuit the possibility of an eventual sensus communis that is promised by the incremental diffusion of enlightened reason. Bakhtin challenges this notion of the aesthetic as always deferred (to a yet-to-be realized future) or displaced (to a hypothetical viewer) with the concept of a “dialogical” aesthetic in which we reclaim our incarnated particularity and act from our “own unique place”, answerable to each situation, context and interlocutor. {09}

II. After the Last Word In his early philosophical works, Bakhtin stresses the fundamentally dialogical nature of human identity. As he argues, in order to truly understand our Selves it is first necessary for us to experience an image of this self that is “as full and concrete as possible”. However, while we can call up “indelible images of other people in all their externally intuitable completeness”, as Bakhtin notes, this same imaginative capacity fails us when we attempt to produce a

Our Pernicious Temporality

coherent image of our selves. “My own face will be absent … What will correspond here to my own I are the recollections, the re-experiencings of purely inner happiness, anguish, regret, desires, strivings, that pervade this intuited world of others. That is, I shall recall my own inner attitudes in particular circumstances of my life, but not my own outer image.” {10} As a result, Todorov states in his book on Bakhtin, “We can never see ourselves as a whole; the other is necessary to accomplish, even if temporarily, a perception of the self that the individual can achieve only partially with respect to himself.” {11} We require the other, then, as a kind of benign mirror to reflect back to us a view of our self as a reassuringly finite “totality” that we can never experience on our own. {12} The aesthetic dimension of Bakhtin’s early philosophical research is evident in his assertion that proper self-understanding can only occur with our exposure to a coherent “image” or “picture” of our “externally finished personality”. In his subsequent literary theory he will ground this assertion in the analysis of a specific aesthetic form, drawing a correlation between the author/hero relationship in the novel and the broader self/other dynamic outlined above. Employing the concept of “empathy” or Einfühlung (“feeling-in”) developed in the theoretical work of Wilhelm Worringer and Vischer, Bakhtin defines aesthetic experience as a two-part process. It begins with what Worringer terms an “exit from the self”, via “fusion” with another sensibility. This exit allows us to “see and know what [the other] experiences, [to] put [ourselves] in his place”. {13} Following this exit we return to the self, enriched by a deeper understanding of the experience of the other. And it is this deeper understanding that allows us to give form and unity to our subsequent portrayals of the other. Empathy and identification, the movement out of a coherent and delimited self, must be followed by an Odyssean return to the self in order to produce a properly “unified” aesthetic expression (“unification and completion are radically impossible from inside this knowledge [of the other]”. {14} Thus, Bakhtin warns that the artist must never allow him- or herself to become too enmeshed with the life of the other (to become a “direct participant”) as this would sacrifice too much of his or her authorial sovereignty, and imply an “ethical” rather than an “aesthetic” relationship/orientation to their existence. As he notes, “Aesthetic activity begins properly only when one returns within oneself at one’s place, outside of the one suffering, and when one gives form and completion to the material of identification”. {15} The primary aesthetic act, then, is the creation of discrete works that exhibit “unity”, “completion” and “finitude”. And each of these conditions is dependent on the author’s ability to distance him- or herself from the other and achieve a compositional (and cognitive) mastery. This is the basis for Bakhtin’s early criticisms of Dostoevsky, in which he accuses the writer of surrendering the “right of the author to stand outside life and complete it”, by failing to maintain the proper authorial control over the characters in his novels. {16} During the 1920s Bakhtin’s analysis of the aesthetic undergoes a dramatic transformation. {17} He now openly refutes the concept of a unitary authorial voice and celebrates the polyphonic incompletion of Dostoevsky’s novels, where each character is allowed his or her own expression, free from the normalizing mastery of the “author”. As Bakhtin writes, in Dostoevsky “we have a plurality of consciousnesses, with equal rights, each with its own world… The character’s consciousness is given as another consciousness, as belonging to someone else, without being reified in the least, or closed in, without having become the object of authorial consciousness.” {18} These “other” consciousnesses are, of course, a fiction (all are, ultimately, authored

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Mikhail Bakhtin, Art and Answer ability: Early Philosophical Essays, edited by Michael Holquist and Vadim Liapunov, translation and notes by Vadim Liapunov, Austin: University of Texas Press, 1990, p. 60.

Tzvetan Todorov, Mikhail Bakhtin: The Dialogical Principle, translated by Wlad Godzich, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1984, p. 95.

“In this sense one can speak of the absolute aesthetic need of man for the other, for the other’s activity of seeing, holding, putting together and unifying, which alone can bring into being the externally finished personality. . . It is only in another human being that I find an aesthetically (and ethically) convincing experience of human finitude, of a marked-off empirical objectivity. Only another human being can give me the appearance of being co-substantial with the external world.” Bakhtin, cited by Todorov. Ibid., pp. 95–96.

Bakhtin uses the concept of vnenakhodimos or “finding oneself outside”, which Todorov translates as “extopy”. Ibid., p. 99.

Ibid., p. 100.

Ibid., p. 99

Ibid., p. 101. Bakhtin accuses Dostoevsky of succumbing to “diseases of transgradience”.

As Todorov writes, “A radical transformation has already taken place ... Bakhtin now espouses Dostoevsky’s viewpoint ... now the best extopy is precisely the one Dostoevsky practices, insofar as it does not confine the character in the consciousness of the author and puts into question the very notion of the privileging of one consciousness above another. A character in Dostoevsky is an unaccomplished, incomplete, heterogeneous being, but that is the reason for its superiority, because we are all, all of us … subjects only in unaccomplishment ... Dostoevsky’s characters are incomplete, they are like so many authors ...” Mikhail Bakhtin, The Dialogical Principle, p. 103.

Bakhtin identifies “A plurality of independent and unmerged voices consciousnesses” in Dostoevsky’s work. “What unfolds in his works is not a multitude of characters and fates in a single objective world, illuminated by a single authorial consciousness; rather a plurality of consciousnesses, with equal rights and each with its own world, combine but are not merged in the unity of the event.” Mikhail Bakhtin, Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics, edited and translated by Caryl Emerson, introduction by Wayne C. Booth, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1984, p. 6.

19 Bakhtin will now describe “artistic completion” as a form of “violence”. Ibid., p. 106. 20

This is a significant transition, of course, which entails a movement from the virtual to the real that potentially violates established norms of aesthetic autonomy.

This displacement was anticipated decades earlier in the concept of the reader as a “producer” introduced by Roland Barthes and in Umberto Eco’s “open text”. In this work the locus of aesthetic meaning or productivity began to shift, at least provisionally, from a singular focus on the experience of the artist. We find, instead, a willingness to acknowledge the generative and expressive nature of reception itself. In practice the more radical potential of the “readerly” text was quickly subsumed under conventional models of reception. The reader or viewer-asproducer (a concept that implies the attribution to the reader of a level of creative agency and autonomy comparable to that previously enjoyed solely by the author) was easily enough reduced to the generic implied viewer of avant-garde art: a figure whose only “productive” agency consists in their readiness to undergo some form of cognitive awakening at the hands of the artist. Thus, creative agency was surrendered, only to be gathered in again by the mechanisms of monological authority.

See Grant Kester, The One and the Many: Contemporary Collaborative Art in a Global Context, Durham: Duke University Press, 2011.

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by Dostoevsky himself). Bakhtin is referring here to what he terms the “architectonics” of the novel itself, in its presentation of various subjective points of view, against the traditional demand that the author organize those voices or points of view under a single, unitary consciousness, which arranges them and gives them meaning. Bakhtin no longer suggests that the artist’s role is to simply “stand outside life and complete it”. Rather, as in Dostoevsky’s novels, the work of art is defined by “a plurality of consciousnesses, with equal rights”. Just as Bakhtin moves beyond the simple opposition between authorial enclosure and empathetic dissolution, he also questions the aesthetic value he previously assigned to distanciation and “objectivation”, in which the other’s suffering is made narratologically coherent for presentation to a reader. This has significant implications for what we understand to be the “work of art” itself, as a closed and unitary system of meaning. {19} The moment of aesthetic production no longer occurs only as the author returns to the sanctuary of the self to produce a coherent account of the other. Now, Bakhtin suggests, the act of fusion with the other itself becomes a legitimate part of the aesthetic work. Bakhtin created an important opening within modernism by challenging the unity of the work of art as the product of a monological consciousness. The key theoretical shift involved in bringing Bakhtin into the present entails a movement from the author’s “dialog” with characters of his own invention to the artist’s dialog with actual viewers or participants. {20} This is a transition that I’ve attempted to outline in my own work on a “dialogical aesthetic” as it relates to the dramatic growth of new artistic practices associated with collaborative and participatory forms of creativity. {21} The relative calibration of agency and authorship has emerged as one of the most pressing concerns in this work. {22} As a result, the implications of Bakhtin’s research for us today extend far beyond the study of novelistic forms. He provides one of the few systems of thought in modern critical theory that encourage us to think differently about creativity, specifically. There are any number of theoretical paradigms that advocate plural forms of identity, but consistently, even within the work of otherwise quite radical thinkers, we encounter a silence around creative or intellectual agency itself, or alternately (as in Deleuze and Guattari), a reversion to monological models of artistic consciousness drawn from the traditions of Romanticism. Here, as I’ve already noted, the artist (or theorist) is portrayed as the gifted visionary or rootless, nomadic agent of critique who is, alone, able to grasp a given system in its totality. He or she stands apart from, and above, ordinary viewers, who remain sunk in infantile dependence on the mundane “reality” of the world, like prisoners in Plato’s Cave. For many, the artistic personality remains, even today, the last redoubt of Bakhtin’s “non-incarnated thought” and concepts of subjective mastery and transcendence that have otherwise been mercilessly critiqued. The essential productivity, and “answerability,” of the self/other relationship is central to Bakhtin’s thought. It is an encounter that is capable of generating new insight and new forms of aesthetic and political knowledge. The implicit horizontality of the dialogical exchange challenges many of the conventional models that we rely on for our understanding of political change as well as artistic practice. We find a useful expression of this conventional wisdom in the rhetoric of the architectural collective BAVO, which is referenced in one of the conference workshop briefs. In their essay “Always Choose the Worst Option”, BAVO provides a revealing analysis of the current state of art practice associated with forms of political change or resistance.

Our Pernicious Temporality

On the one hand they identify something they term “NGO” art, an abject (albeit largely undefined) body of work in which “commitment is understood as the constant production of innovative micro-solutions—so-called ‘pocket revolutions’—to the real, everyday problems people encounter in their immediate life world”. {23} NGO art is antithetical to what BAVO terms “deep criticism”, which can only be produced by an art practice “that throws fundamental questions at the ruling order and tirelessly confronts it with its inconvenient truths”. A properly “radical” art practice begins with “the premise that there is something so fundamentally wrong with the existing order that every attempt at making it better, however well intended, will always be perverted by it, and that one should aim for nothing less than the radical subversion of that order”. {24} As BAVO writes, this “radical subversion” can only be effected through the familiar avant-garde strategy of “forcing a fundamental change” in the consciousness of the naïve or uninformed viewer. {25} Their exemplars of “truly” radical critique include the films of Michael Moore and the prank performances of the Yes Men, which operate through what they describe as a form of “over-identification”. Here the artist expresses exaggerated support for a reviled belief system (totalitarianism, racism, etc.), in the hope that this exaggeration will activate an as yet untapped capacity for shame among those who are sympathetic to these beliefs. Alternately the artist insists on the absolute fulfillment of a given political ideal, as a way to reveal the hypocrisy of those in power who otherwise hide behind it. {26} In either case BAVO places their hopes for “radical subversion” in projects that can generate sufficient “disgust and shame” in viewers that they will feel compelled to rise up and “start demanding instant and radical change”. {27} The word “radical” appears repeatedly in BAVO’s article, suggesting a powerful, but not always clearly articulated, yearning for some gesture that is so transgressive or extreme that it can escape entirely any attempt at cooption. Thus, the “truly radical critique” offered by the Yes Men and Michael Moore “cannot immediately be made productive within the existing order since the latter is radically put into question”. Of course this work is meant to be “productive” to the extent that it seeks to transform the consciousness of individual viewers through shame or disgust. We have to speculate, then, as to what BAVO means by “productive”. One possibility is that they are arguing that any project that attempts to engage a given community through a specific crisis or problem (access to water, for example, or forced eviction) gives the members of that community some hope that they can solve their immediate problems without having to engage in a militant overthrow of the system in its entirety. By working at this pragmatic and situational level “NGO artists”, according to BAVO, “make global change even more unlikely”. {28} BAVO seems to be suggesting that artists or planners working in this manner are somehow releasing political pressure that would otherwise burst forth into a properly revolutionary form of global resistance. At one level BAVO certainly has a legitimate grievance. As many other commentators have pointed out, the concepts of dialog and pragmatic problem-solving currently in vogue in the art world can easily enough be appropriated by powerful political and economic interests that are opposed to broader change. I would imagine this concern is especially pronounced for planners and architects, whose typical experience of “collaboration” involves working with private developers or public-sector bureaucrats (rather than squatters, striking workers or environmental activists). The problem with BAVO’s analysis, in my view, is that it universalizes what is really a profession-

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BAVO Collective, Always Choose the Worst Option: Artistic Resistance and the Strategy of Over-Identification (June 26, 2008), pp. 24, 20. Available at: http://www.bavo.biz/. BAVO consists of Gideon Boie and Matthias Pauwels.

Ibid., p. 28.

Ibid., footnote 16.

There are several related problems with this analysis, at least in the context of the American political culture in which Moore and the Yes Men often operate. Most obvious is the fact that some form of what BAVO terms “positive” over-identification has been a common feature of political discourse in the United States (and, no doubt, elsewhere) for decades. It’s quite routine for political operatives to attempt to undermine their opposition by accusing them of failing to fully measure up to the values or ideals that they openly espouse, often in exaggerated form.

Ibid., p. 31.

Ibid., p. 28.

specific grievance into a carte blanche dismissal of any attempt to work locally. It does so, moreover, in a way that is frankly puzzling (are they arguing, for example, that planners and architects should abandon their professions and become filmmakers or performance artists instead?). BAVO ignores, precisely, the specificity of discrete sites of practice, and the significant differences between the work of artists, activists and architects in this regard. This is a situation made all the worse by the relative absence of any detailed discussion of the actual range of contemporary collaborative artistic practice in their essay. Instead they choose to issue an axiomatic condemnation of any attempt to work locally or situationally, grasping instinctively for the rhetorical radicalism involved in the act of “hurling” accusations at the rich and powerful. I have no doubt that this gesture must seem immensely appealing to a designer or architect who has become accustomed to holding his peace in endless “dialogs” with investors, developers or politicians, but I find it less useful as a universal template for all “radical” or subversive practices. BAVO’s essay exhibits the emblematic rhetorical form of much contemporary art theory: a kind of “either/or,” rather than a “this-and-that,” understanding of the mechanisms of change which constantly seeks to prescribe the single true or uncorrupted form that activism should take. In this respect it exhibits what Bakhtin termed “theoreticism”, a belief system which privileges a set of a priori principles over the experientially specific knowledge generated by activist practice itself. It is characterized as well by reliance on hyperbolic oppositions (“truly radical” art vs. unredeemable NGO art). The effect is to collapse the epistemological difference between rhetorical strategies (what BAVO understands as “confronting the ruling order” with “fundamental questions” which it may or may not choose to answer) and forms of practice that are organized around specific sites of collective resistance and which aim at making material changes in the operation of discursive and institutional power at these sites, in ways that force the existing power structure to answer (rather than ‘forcing’ the generic viewer to change his or her mind). In this respect they simply reinforce a bias against the durational and the dialogical that has been a long-standing feature of avant-garde discourse. Any work that surrenders some authorial sovereignty by engaging with the viewer or participant as an equal, rather than “forcing” them to abandon their misguided beliefs from a position of epistemological mastery, has effectively abandoned the possibility of a “radical” critique, which can only ever be brought to them from without, from a “non-incarnated” consciousness that transcends the banality of their everyday experience. BAVO’s disdain for problem solving in “the immediate life world” ignores the ways in which people most often become effectively politicized; which is precisely through their own immediate struggles with power as it confronts them in the spaces and interactions of their daily lives. I want to conclude by returning to the question I introduced earlier in this talk. What would it mean, as Bakhtin writes, for the artist to grant the other’s response a “decisive” force in the unfolding of their work? It would mean that we endow the viewer, the collaborator, or the participant with the same agency and the same capacity for critical insight that we have traditionally attributed to the artist him- or herself.

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Our Pernicious Temporality—Grant Kester

WHY PACT? HOW DOES IT WORK? [ Yvette Masson-Zanussi, Marco Stathopoulos ]

The European Forum for Architectural Policies was founded in 1997 with the aim to promote architectural policies within the European Union. Since then, almost all countries have developed a policy document. The report I drafted in 2013, called “Tacking Stock” penlights the rise of these policies as well as the limits of their implementation. Its members were public authorities, professional organisations, educational and cultural bodies. The European project, called “Underconstructions”, set with wonderland and the Cité de l’Architecture et du Patrimoine, was the starting point of an observatory of innovative architectural and urban processes. The hundreds of answers received gave a wide scope of a new stage emerging in Europe, concerned by crisis, cultural and social cohesion, hybrid processes. The idea popped up to enlarge the encounters by establishing a new European Platform: PACT (Architecture, Culture, Territory). Participants may include political stakeholders, academics, artists, professionals, civil servants, citizens, critics, or authors. PACT gathers, analyzes, and broadcasts the exploration of urban and land-use experiments. The aim is to advocate for policies and new schemes to allow experimentation in spatial design and land-use creative processes, city changes, based on the most advanced experiences collected throughout Europe, in cross-cutting fields such as heritage, architecture, urban design, transition, new economies, arts, or agro-ecology. It works by giving support and visibility to urban experimentation and pioneering processes through publications, workshops, events, seminars, collaborative platforms and conferences. The aim is also to stress the urgency of innovative visions for dealing with contemporary urban challenges; the urgency to give space to alternative models in a living environment; and the urgency of positioning culture in the political discourse as a driver for spatial design and city changes. Are we, at PACT, witnessing the emergence of new urban processes?

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Facing rapid changes in our living environment, regular practice and top-down solutions are proving increasingly inadequate. Given this mismatch, we see across Europe more and more local initiatives carried by politicians and architects, but mostly by citizens, who divert, bypass, bend the rules and innovate urban practice. They imagine new solutions and new lifestyles. These initiatives are often isolated. But networked–which is what our observatory stands for–they show a real movement, and witness of common needs and aspirations, despite different contexts. These proposals reflect the questioning of the representation of inhabited areas, and a desire to reclaim these areas through this questioning. It is a rediscovery of public space with new readings and new narratives, but also new citizen and political cooperation. Why are we positioning these cultural processes on a European level? Europe is the future, in spite of growing Euro-sceptic trends. The new generation called the Erasmus generation sees Europe as the playground beyond national challenges. At the time of globalization, Europe is an answer. Cultural and Social Europe. On the other hand, it is worthwhile to recall that EU rules are impacting 80% of national rules. Better integration is needed therefore, and the “European City” is a common culture. Contemporary urban issues require new visions. It is essential to position these experiences on a European scale simply because they can inspire far beyond their local context. The experiences deserve to be collected, analyzed, and disseminated. Their experimental mechanisms are a valuable source of information for a political debate that should now be able to rely on their innovation and invention. We must now make room for experimentation in the design of our living environments. We must include this cultural and citizen approach we are witnessing as a lever of urban and landscape design in local, national, and European policy frameworks.

Why Pact? How Does It Work?—Yvette Masson-Zanussi, Marco Stathopoulos

Anfield’s Housing Market renewal area (2010)

This neighborhood fell victim to a failed government scheme called Housing Market Renewal Initiative (HMRI), originally thought up to get money flowing through nine Northern English areas; places identified as ‘market failures’ where unlike anywhere else in Britain house prizes had stagnated. In the Anfield/Breckfield area alone several thousand homes were emptied to build new housing estates. Many people who used to own their terraced house just couldn’t afford the new homes with the compensation given to them by the city and were either pushed into debt or had to start renting.

“Housing is the battlefield of our time and the house is its monument.” (Jeanne van Heeswijk, artist and Homebaked co-creator)

Project base 2Up2Down at former Mitchells Bakery (2012)

Homebaked still in the clearance zone (2013)

It is a fundamental right to have a place to live in well {02}. Visitors to Anfield, a classic Northern English working class neighborhood and famously home of the Liverpool Football Club, walk around in disbelief. Streets are boarded up, houses demolished, temporary grassed areas left. High Street consists mainly of fast food outlets catering only to match-day visitors. To the back of the stadium, where the LFC is planning to build a new stand, residents are stranded between ‘tinned-up’ houses owned by the city or the club. It is not a recent development and it was not, as some might assume, the residents who let their area fall into decline.

First published in Harvard Design Magazine 37 ‘Urbanism’s Core’, web edition, 2014

01 Homebaked is an independent Community Land Trust and Cooperative Bakery established through 2Up2Down, a project by Jeanne van Heeswijk commissioned by the Liverpool Biennale.

A bakery as a site of resistance When Anfield was designated as part of the Housing Market Renewal Initiative, Mitchell’s, the neighborhood bakery since 1903 was among

“To me, HMRI means devastation, promises broken, no consultation.” (Angela Mckay, local resident and Homebaked co-creator)

The local community has had their hopes repeatedly raised and then dashed by promises of ‘neighborhood regeneration’, which has been slow to materialize. HMRI was pulled completely in 2008 due to the economic crisis. Since then the city has been desperately trying to come up with a new solution. After 15 years of living under these circumstances, many people have lost trust in any government schemes. They are ‘sick of waiting’.

“The clue is in the name really, market renewal. Market is the key word here. Not community.” (Britt Jurgensen, local resident and Homebaked co-creator)

[ Jeanne van Heeswijk, 2Up2Down / Homebaked {01}, Anfield, Liverpool, 2010–2014 ]

HOMEBAKED, A PERFECT RECIPE

Baking workshop onsite (2013)

Open for business (2013)

They were joined by other people of all ages from the community who together developed a new model for community-owned housing and enterprise. It is called Homebaked. The group established a Community Land Trust, which will enable the community to collectively own and manage land and buildings. A smaller team of mostly women established the Homebaked Co-operative Anfield to reopen the bakery. Since November 2012, the bakery has been open on match days and other occasions, inviting more people from the community to train as bakers, share their skills and develop the business plan.

“I get the chance to have a say of what’s going on in my area now. I know people who have been moved out of their homes and had to change everything about their lives. I don’t want to see that happen again.” (Lisa, 16, member of the design team)

In 2011 the building became the base for 2Up2Down, a project attempting to create a small-scale community-led alternative to large planning schemes, assisting residents to confront the issues facing the stagnated development of their neighborhood, and to create a sustainable, affordable building and reuse scheme. Since then the bakery building has become a site for public discussion and debate as well as for weekly design workshops and planning sessions focusing on its transformation. Over the first year a group of around twenty young people worked with URBED architects to remodel the building to accommodate a community bakery with training kitchen alongside a small housing scheme for two to four households, taking the community as their client.

the buildings earmarked for demolition. The family who owned it were then in their 70s, and considering retirement. Unable to sell a business whose building was threatened with demolition, they waited for the local council to buy them out, losing custom as the surrounding streets were emptied. When the renewal program was frozen and the demolition order remained in place, they had no choice but to close the bakery and retire without compensation.

Project base 2up 2down on Match Days (2013)

“‘2Up2Down/Homebaked’ will continue to change local people’s ability to influence the way their neighborhood is managed and developed, and help them to take matters into their own hands.” (Maria Brewster, project co-ordinator and Homebaked co-creator)

But Homebaked is more than business and housing, it’s a meeting point for different communities and stakeholders in the area and has become a place where together people are gaining a better understanding of the housing regeneration process underway in their neighborhood and, most importantly, acquiring the skills and confidence to play an active part in improving their surroundings and, with it, their life chances.

“Homebaked is built brick by brick and loaf by loaf by the Anfield community.” (Motto derived from a community workshop)

Homebaked Co-operative Anfield opened its doors again as a fully functioning local bakery and wholesale business in October 2013. In April 2014, the Homebaked Community Land Trust will start to retrofit the flats above the bakery following the plans created by the young people. The CLT is simultaneously negotiating with the Liverpool City council the handover of the adjacent properties in order to develop them with and for the community.

“Not all visitors to the bakery would realize, as they sip their fresh coffee and nibble on a home-made cake, that they’re in the warm heart of a resistance movement.” (Lynn Tolmon, local resident and Homebaked co-creator)

Bemerkenswert an der Tätigkeit einer Wohnbau trägerin sind die Vielfalt der Aufgabenbereiche und die hohe Zahl der gesellschaftlichen Systeme, an die täglich anzudocken ist: das Bauwesen, der Städtebau, die Architektur, die Planung, Soziales und Kulturelles und nicht zuletzt die Menschen, die in den Anlagen wohnen. Neubauten und Gebäudesanierungen, wie sie die WBV-GPA durchführt, wirken nicht nur auf das architektonische Stadtbild, sondern bilden auch den Rahmen für das Zusammenleben der Menschen. Der Raum schafft die Möglichkeiten, und zwar in alle Richtungen. Der Art der Gestaltung privater und öffentlicher Räume kommt deshalb eine hohe Bedeutung zu. Dabei zählen nicht nur die Ergebnisse, die ohnehin immer nur vorläufige sind. Wichtig sind vor allem die Prozesse der Gestaltung und der Veränderung. Im geförderten Wohnbau Wiens spielt neben Ökonomie, Architektur und Ökologie das Kriterium „Soziale Nachhaltigkeit“ eine herausragende Rolle. Dabei geht es um die Qualität und Alltagspraktikabilität des Wohnens, um Gemeinschaft, um die Verankerung im Quartier, um die Schaffung von Identität und sozialer Durchmischung. Gemeint ist auch ein Gefühl des Zuhauseseins, wobei Mitsprache und Mitgestaltung der eigenen Umgebung durch die BewohnerInnen wichtige Faktoren sind. Das Leben in der künftigen Anlage soll die Architektur bestimmen, nicht umgekehrt. Als Planerin und Bauträgerin versucht man, sich die Lebendigkeit in der neuen Anlage vorzustellen und ermöglichend zu planen, ohne jedoch alles zu verplanen. Es sollen Freiräume bleiben für Entfaltung und Entwicklung und für Unvorhergesehenes. Doch genau hier beginnt das heikle Terrain.

Aber auch dort, wo Ungeplantes nicht „eingeplant“ wird, entsteht es, und nicht immer zur Freude der betroffenen Bewohnerschaft bzw. der Hausverwaltung. Im schlimmsten Fall kommt es im Wohnalltag zur Geringschätzung von Gemeinschaftsgut, zu Raumaneignungen durch Hausfremde, zu Rücksichtslosigkeit im Umgang mit den NachbarInnen bis hin zu vandalistischen Akten – vielbeklagte Phänomene in Stadtszenerien, zurückgeführt auf zunehmenden sozialen Druck, Entfremdung, Isolation, Anonymität, Entsolidarisierung und möglicherweise verstärkt durch lebensunfreundliche räumliche Gegebenheiten. Wo hat die Kunst Platz in diesem Gefüge? Vorausgeschickt sei, dass der öffentlich geförderte Wohnbau in Wien seit fast 100 Jahren eine herausragende, international viel beachtete soziale Errungenschaft unserer Stadt ist. Seit der Zeit des Roten Wien in den 1920er- und 1930er-Jahren ist Kunst ein Bestandteil dieses Wohnbaus. Kunst am Bau diente zunächst der Verschönerung, der Aufwertung sowie der Identitätsmarkierung und war Zeichen und integrativer Baustein einer sozial orientierten Baukultur. Im letzten Drittel des 20. Jahrhunderts wurde Kunst am Bau radikaler und setzte – in unterschiedlichen künstlerischen Ausdrucksformen – Signale der Bereitschaft zur Öffnung und zur kulturellen Auseinandersetzung mit zeitgenössischen Entwicklungen. Beispiele finden sich etwa in der Publikation „Kunst am Bau. Kommunale Interventionen Wien bis jetzt“, erschienen 2009 im Verlag Holzhausen.

Roten Wien ein Prozent der Bausumme für Kunst reserviert war, muss heute „gespart“ werden. Nur noch selten erscheint Kunst an und um Wohnbauten, und wenn, dann eher als Dekorum oder Prestigeobjekt und weniger als Medium für Gestaltung und partizipative Prozesse. Manchmal wird Kunst als adäquates Mittel gegen Auswirkungen unliebsamer gesellschaftlicher Strömungen propagiert, sozusagen begleitend zu sozialer Arbeit oder als deren Ersatz. Nur wenige aus diesem weiten Feld der Urban Practitioners scheinen zu wissen, was Kunst wirklich kann. Ich persönlich weiß es auch nicht, aber ich ahne es – nicht zuletzt durch Beobachten der Reaktionen von Menschen in Wohnanlagen der WBV-GPA, wenn künstlerische Interventionen stattfinden. Für die Teilnahme an Kunstprojekten finden sich immer zahlreiche BewohnerInnen aller Altersgruppen, auch wenn sie zuvor niemals mit Kunst zu tun hatten. Während des Prozesses strahlt die Freude, die sie empfinden, wenn sie sich auf ungewohnte Weise ausdrücken und ihre Lebenswelt mitgestalten, in die ganze Umgebung. Die Erfahrung, dass ihr Beitrag Wert für die Gemeinschaft hat, lässt sie persönlich „wachsen“. Alle BewohnerInnen sind, wenn sie an deren Entstehung beteiligt waren, immens stolz auf Kunstwerke in ihren Wohnanlagen, und noch nie wurde ein Kunstwerk, das auf solche Art entstanden ist, beschädigt oder gar zerstört. Eigentlich sollten dies für Urban Practitioners aus dem Wohnbereich Gründe genug sein, künstlerische Interventionen in ihren Projekten zu initiieren. Doch Kunstprojekte rechnen sich nicht nur kulturell und sozial, sondern auch betriebswirtschaftlich. Im Rahmen des Qualitätskriteriums „soziale Nachhaltigkeit“ werden bei der Zuteilung von Wohnbauförderungsmitteln auch künstlerische Interventionen positiv gewertet. Ich wünsche mir von meiner KollegInnenschaft mehr Fantasie, mehr Mut und mehr Vertrauen in die Kraft der Kunst, damit der geförderte Wohnbau Wiens, der weltweit als Musterbeispiel in der Auslage steht, nicht nur sozial, sondern auch kulturell nachhaltig bleibt.

Und heute? Im geförderten Neubau war Kunst in den letzten Jahren nur noch vereinzelt vertreten. Während im

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ist Geschäftsführerin der gemeinnützigen Bauträgerin Wohnbauvereinigung für Privatangestellte (WBV-GPA), die in Wien rund 11.000 Wohnungen und Geschäftslokale verwaltet und derzeit ca. 600 weitere in Bau hat.

[ Andrea Holzmann ]

Was darf ungeplant bleiben? Wie viel Gestaltungsfreiraum darf es für die Bewohnerschaft geben? Was ist überhaupt möglich jenseits der Normen und Vorschriften? Was getraut sich die Planerin/der Bauherr eigenständiger, nicht vorhersehbarer Entwicklung zu überlassen? Wie viel Vertrauen haben die Planenden in autonome, nicht vorhersehbare Prozesse? Planung für die Menschen, das ist seit langer Zeit das Credo im geförderten Wohnbau Wiens, Planung mit den Menschen ist ein neuerer Aspekt. Partizipative Ansätze im Planungsgeschehen und in der Verwaltung sind vereinzelt vorhanden, Planen mit Baugruppen, also Zusammenschlüssen von Menschen, die sich für ein Bauvorhaben engagieren und es von Anfang an mitgestalten, findet heute an ausgesuchten Orten programmatisch statt.

Andrea Holzmann

ERMÖGLICHEND PLANEN – AUS DER PERSPEKTIVE EINES WOHNBAUTRÄGERS

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Budget: EUR 6.000 Donation: 500 Euro from the school Funders: Emscher.Kunst 2013, Curator: Ute Reeh, Emscher.schul.Kunst Partners in education: Gesamtschule Emschertal, Duisburg: Christoph Hönig, Anna Bäumer Kunstakademie Münster: Tim Dannenberg, Katha Böhme, Stephanie Sczepanek, Lioba Knape, Daniel Landmann, Number of people on the work crews: 30 (including a school class) Construction: March 11–June 14, 2013 Emscher Kunst Die Ausstellung EMSCHERKUNST zeigt seit dem Kulturhauptstadtjahr RUHR.2010 alle drei Jahre Kunst an spannenden Orten: verwilderte Brachen, ehemalige Industrieorte und das Niemandsland zwischen Emscher und Rhein-Herne-Kanal werden zur Bühne für internationale und nationale Künstler. Die EMSCHERKUNST, nach 2010 zum zweiten Mal von Florian Matzner kuratiert, versteht sich als Zukunftswerkstatt mit dem Ziel, den Strukturwandel im nördlichen Ruhrgebiet und die Renaturierung der Emscher bis zum Jahr 2020 zu begleiten und zu beeinflussen. http://www.emscherkunst.de/kunst/resuemee-zur-emscherkunst2013.html

02 Das Projekt EMSCHER.schul.KUNST ist eine wichtige Säule im übergreifenden Vermittlungsprogramm der EMSCHERKUNST.2013. Kooperationsschulen: Gesamtschule Weierheide, Oberhausen-Sterkrade Gesamtschule Emschertal, Duisburg-Neumühl Freie Waldorfschule Dinslaken, Dinslaken-Eppinghoven http://www.emscherkunst.de/ emscherkunst-und-schule/emscherschulkunst.html

schulkunst.org, http://www.schulkunst.org/ emscherkunst/index.php

Zusammen mit drei KünstlerInnen und drei Schulstandorten im nördlichen Ruhrgebiet initiiert und organisiert die Künstlerin Ute Reeh {01} im Frühling 2013 ein kooperatives Projekt für Emscher.schul.Kunst {02} als einen Beitrag für die EMSCHERKUNST 2013 {03}. Emscher.schul.Kunst verfolgt das Ziel der Förderung von Eigeninitiative, Kommunikation und Vernetzung unter SchülerInnen, Schulstufen und letztendlich auch verschieden Schulformen. Die Künstlerin Irene Hohenbüchler wurde im Winter 2012 angefragt, das Schulprojekt mit der Gesamtschule Emschertal, Duisburg, und Studierenden der Kunstakademie Münster zu starten. Die Arbeit in der Gruppe lockt und stellt doch eine Herausforderung dar: aus der Einsamkeit des Ateliers herauszutreten und sich in temporäre Gemeinsamkeit zu begeben.

[ Christine und Irene Hohenbüchler ]

ein-fall-en ein Ein-griff

Group photo (participants) A project by Christine und Irene Hohenbüchler as part of Emscher.schul. Kunst 2013 in cooperation with Academy of Fine Arts Münster/Kooperative Strategien and the Comprehensive School Emschertal, Duisburg.

ein-fall-en / ein Ein-griff Es bedarf diplomatischen Geschicks, damit die Klasse nicht gespalten wird zwischen denjenigen, die sich gerne beteiligen, und den anderen, die sich eher in die Ecken zurückziehen, wenig tun, Tee trinken und lästern. Die Gruppe beginnt, langsam zusammenzuwachsen und ein

Langsam läuft es an, einige der Kinder sind interessiert und machen gleich mit, sprühen vor Eifer, andere müssen erst überzeugt werden. Motivationsarbeit ist hier gefordert und kostet einiges an zeitlichen und emotionalen Ressourcen.

Gearbeitet wird mit Katja Böhme als teilnehmender Beobachterin, Stephanie Sczepanek, Lioba Knape, Daniel Landmann und Timm Dannenberg mit seiner mobilen Werkstatt von der Kunstakademie Münster in Zusammenarbeit mit Anna Bäumer und ihrer Klasse der Gesamtschule Emschertal:  Selina, Dzessika, Berat, Muhammed, Salih, Michelle D., Pascal, Kan. Robin, Janina, Vladislav, Anna-Lena, Fiona, Hoda, Chiara, Aileen, Diren, Michelle P., Benjamin, Nagihan, AnnKathrin, Can-David, Danny, Sümeya.

Was soll entstehen, und wie sollen die Möbelstücke aussehen? Der Hof ist groß, teilweise gepflastert und asphaltiert und eher trist. Ein bisschen Pepp könnte er schon vertragen. In der ersten Zusammenkunft entsteht mithilfe von kleinen Skizzen und Zeichnungen die Wunschmöblierung. Kleine Modelle werden gebaut, eigenartige Formen konzipiert – als Sitz- und Liegemöglichkeit: große Hände, welche eine lange Bank umschließen, so lang, dass sie einer ganzen Klasse Platz bietet.

Schüler und Schülerinnen aus einem Stadtgebiet mit hohem MigrantInnenanteil sollen unterstützt und gefördert werden. Der große leere Hof der Schule ist Schauplatz der Intervention. Gewünscht werden Sitzmöglichkeiten für den täglichen Aufenthalt in den Pausen. Bisher hat keine Möblierung lange gehalten, zu groß ist die Versuchung, die Möbel zu beschädigen. Eile ist angesagt, damit die Sitze ab Frühjahr benutzbar sind.

Wer will und hat Ideen, etwas zu sagen, wer braucht Hilfe bei der Planung?

Ein Kraft- und Willensakt. Die Identifikation mit der Arbeit und das Erfahren einer sinnvollen Beteiligung unterstützen den Arbeitsprozess. Jedenfalls werden die Möbel gerne benutzt und zwar von allen SchülerInnen. Sie sind fest und stabil, bieten Schutz und geben etwas Bewohnbares an den Hof weiter. Erstaunlicherweise stehen die Bänke ein halbes Jahr später immer noch, obwohl keine Möblierungen dem täglichen Gebrauch und den nachschulischen NutzerInnen bis dahin standgehalten haben. In Folge wurde über einen langen Zeitraum darauf verzichtet. Offensichtlich werden die gemeinsam gebauten Möbel akzeptiert, angenommen und geachtet.

Einen zeitlichen Druck gibt es, es soll alles in einer Woche fertig gestellt werden. Die Jugendlichen müssen wieder zurück in ihren geregelten Schulunterricht, und Tim mit seiner rollenden Werkstatt zieht weiter, die Künstlerin und die Studierenden ebenso. Diese Eingrenzung ermöglicht aber auch, dass das Projekt schneller wächst und zu einem raschen Ende kommt, in diesem Fall ist es nicht von Nachteil. Es gibt keine Möglichkeit der Verzögerung, jeder und jede muss sich anstrengen. Durch die Präsenz der Lehrerin, sie führt die Jugendlichen mit viel Vertrauen und Konsequenz durch die Woche, kann die Fertigstellung der Bank erfolgen. Es sind nicht nur die willigen motivierten Kinder, die sich sowieso beteiligen, mit an Bord. Es gibt auch einige, die extreme Schwierigkeiten haben, bei der Sache zu bleiben. Aber das „Wachsen“ der Bänke hilft zu erkennen, dass durch gemeinsame Anstrengung etwas „Reales“ umgesetzt werden kann. Das Zusammenräumen ist für manche wieder schwierig. Fünf Tage intensives gemeinsames Arbeiten: Das strengt an!

Team zu bilden. Tim mit seinen interessanten Werkzeugen, seinen Tattoos am Arm und seiner handwerklichen wie künstlerischen Kompetenz wirkt sehr spannend und aufregend für Jungen wie für Mädchen. Die Arbeitsprozesse werden intensiver, der Rhythmus beginnt. Das erste Möbelstück wird fertig, das spornt an. Neugierige Blicke aus anderen Klassen durch die Klassenfenster machen stolz auf das Geleistete.

A school-yard bench: product of a collaboration between school and university students.

Wir würden uns wünschen, dass diese Potenziale des „gemeinsamen Handelns“ von der kuratorischen Seite noch mehr genutzt werden und Anerkennung finden.

Wir dachten, der Diskurs wäre seit den 1990er-Jahren schon längst aufgebrochen, es gäbe Verständnis für prozessorientierte Arbeitsweisen im Spannungsfeld zur gesellschaftlichen Positionierung. Oder wirkt die Arbeit zu naiv, da vor Ort mit Kids gearbeitet wird, dies also gar nicht so hoch bewertete Kunst sein kann? Ist das Feld der Kunst im sozialen Bereich ausgeschöpft, ein Phänomen des Zeitgeistes? Was steht dahinter? Partizipatorische Projekte werden gefördert, auch unterstützt und können stattfinden, bleiben jedoch des Öfteren im Verborgenen und werden nur von „SpezialistInnen“ wahrgenommen.

Im Katalog der EMSCHERKUNST 2013 hat das Emscher.schul.KunstProjekt keinen Platz und Widerhall gefunden, obwohl an drei verschiedenen Schulstandorten Projekte unter der Leitung von Ute Reeh, Patrick Rieve und Till Krause (Galerie für Landschaftskunst) gefördert und im Rahmen der EMSCHERKUNST stattgefunden haben. Hier stellt sich die Frage: Sind die schulischen Projekte zu weit entfernt von der geladenen „etablierten Kunst“? Herrscht Scheu, die Kunstwelt mit Schulkunst zu konfrontieren und tatsächlich auf gleicher Augenhöhe mit den anderen künstlerischen Projekten zu zeigen? Was ist der Unterschied, oder besser gesagt: Was macht den Unterschied? Ist Kunstvermittlung ein Nebenprodukt, ein vom Sozialstaat gefördertes Bildungsprogramm für zukünftige mündige KulturkonsumentInnen? Würde die Arbeit im Katalog stören? Ist deren künstlerische Sprache zu uninteressant, zu allgemein? Entspricht die Arbeit mit den Schulen nicht wirklich dem Feld der Kunstdiskurskunst? Bedarf dies nicht einer ernsthaften Betrachtung?

Dieses Projekt mit der Gesamtschule Emschertal war auch für Irene eine neue Erfahrung: Das Nicht-beteiligt-sein-Wollen und teilweise große Unverständnis dem Projekt gegenüber. Wie dieses umschiffen und den Jugendlichen doch einmal das Gefühl des Besonderen vermitteln?

Drilling machine Borat, participant at work

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Topic: The fierce debate on ownership, access and social justice has confronted urban practitioners with a new set of pressing questions on the goals as well as means of their interventions. In this workshop we want to share our experiences with artistic practices situated outside or at the margins of capitalist markets; we are interested in practices revolving around the ideas of the solidarity economy and the commons, the art of sharing, thieving and rescaling.

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URBAN PRACTITIONERS AND COMMONS [ Stefan Gruber, Anette Baldauf ]

WORKSHOP Résumé: Brigitte Kratzwald kicked off the workshop with an introductory lecture on the commons and solidarity economies. She traced the evolution of the commons through history and outlined the state of current debates. The contemporary city presents the old concept of the commons with new challenges. How are the boundaries of urban commons defined and negotiated? How inclusive or exclusive can and should commons in a city context be? How are urban commons constituted, especially if they are not mere natural resources but rather the product of collective immaterial labor? These questions triggered an initial discussion on the nature of participation in urban development and transformation processes. What are the respective roles of the state, experts and civic society in urban planning and regeneration? Can the commons contribute to reframing existing concepts and procedures of participation? Regardless of their scale or whether material or immaterial, the coexistence and overlap of commons in the city inevitably produces conflict. It is here that the concept of agonistic pluralism is to be weighed against the idea of a consensus-based society. In any case, exploring the relation between commons and the city stresses the necessity of providing an arena for differences to be confronted and negotiated. Beyond the dichotomy of state and market, the commons offer an important third and alternate entry point into the debate on public space. In a second round, participants shared their thoughts and experiences from their respective artistic and urban practices. Martin Krenn raised concerns about the risks of discriminatory practices associated with common interest groups and argued in favor of participatory art—as opposed to mere interactive or participative approaches—that is radically inclusive and in which actors can be involved in the definition of the nature and purpose of projects from their inception. Tamara Schwarzmayr’s and Nadia Prauhart’s long-term project “Samstag in der Stadt” falls into the latter category: On the Schwender Markt in Vienna’s 15th district they created a space and platform for community activities ranging from cooking and gardening to knowledge exchange and celebrations and taking place in the public realm. The result is a multi-faceted yet also fragile urban commons. Tamara and Nadia also discussed the current stage and challenges of the project, in which they are attempting to transfer responsibilities to the members of the community in order to achieve self-management. With respect to our initial discussion on

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Urban Practitioners and Commons

Martin Krenn Statt Rassismus (Instead of Racism), Innsbruck (Austria), 2010 Instead of Racism used an electoral campaign as a “Trojan Horse” vehicle to thwart the logic of conventional election campaigns. It was conceived for communicate! / TKI open 10 and installed in front of the Landesmuseum Ferdinandeum. Activist groups: Frauen aus allen Ländern, FLUCHTpunkt, Plattform Bleiberecht, Initiative Minderheiten. http://www.martinkrenn.net

participation and mechanisms of in- and exclusion they explained how important it has been for their project to limit the broadcasting of activities to a local audience. Robert Temel then shared his experience with cooperative housing groups, comparing the Viennese situation to other cities. According to him, cooperative housing and urban commons can be discussed at two levels: at the level of the community itself, in which a group forms, plans and negotiates modes of cohabitation and at the level of their impact on their urban context. Especially here he believes Baugruppen have the potential to introduce alternate parameters to urban developments compared to the ones of common housing developments: in effect, cooperative housing projects are often more compatible with small scale and mixed use developments, the preservation and transformation of existing building substance and the integration of sociocultural infrastructure. Finally we discussed Angelika Burtscher’s project “Jederland”, in which a Bolzano-based artist group attempted to free a piece of land from its status of possession and thus from the dynamics of power it is usually subjected to. “We wanted to create a vacuum in the urban fabric, in which rigid conventions and systems are suspended, a space of imagination where new modes of living together can be developed. The land, physically located in the urban space of Bolzano, should on the one hand prompt a questioning of the limits of current property laws, and on the other hand represent a lever for a broad discussion on property, possession, community, and common goods,” Angelika described. The following discussion underlined the importance of artistic interventions as catalysts for challenging the status quo and imagining alternative social contracts. Thus, artistic practices can contribute to new economic, political and social discourses that build on and help articulate the many existing struggles that challenge the mantra of capitalist accumulation and profitdriven growth.

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Stefan Gruber, Anette Baldauf

SOHO, INC.: ART, URBAN DEVELOPMENT, AND THE MYTH OF THE CREATIVE CITY [ Anette Baldauf ]

Richard Florida, The Rise of the Creative Class: And How It’s Transforming Work, Leisure, Community and Everyday Life. Basic Books, 2003.

Sharon Zukin, Loft Living. Rutgers University Press, 1989.

03 Charles R. Simpson, SoHo: The Artist in the City. University of Chicago Press, 1981.

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In 2002, Richard Florida published his national bestseller, The Rise of the Creative Class, and the book immediately became a central reference in the discussion on the future of Western cities. Florida claimed that creativity was the major force driving the U.S. economy, and that it was now the “creative class” that provided the economic and political engine for social transformation. {01} Florida argued that the cluster of professions called “creative class” produced a steadily rising Gross National Product—and that on a national scale this growth was distributed unevenly. It was concentrated in so-called “creative cities”, meaning: cities with a high proportion of members of the creative class. Hence, Florida searched for a means to measure, and eventually rank, what he considered necessary conditions in the making of a creative city. According to his account, three variables made an area attractive to the creative class: technology, talent and tolerance. With the first two Ts being standard features of any postindustrial city profile, it was the third feature, “tolerance”, that Florida claimed as his contribution to the engineering of future postindustrial cities. Cities and regions flourish, Florida predicted, if they are open to artists, to foreign-born residents, and to gays. Reconstructing the development of Soho and the Lower East Side in New York, I want to point out that it was not tolerance, but in fact intolerance or, to be more precise, zero tolerance, which turned these neighborhoods into first an art zone and then a landscape of corporate consumption. Soho, the area south of Houston, is generally considered the heart and soul of New York City, and it is also considered a blueprint for how the artistic mode of production brought forth a new urban environment in the course of the shift from the “old” world of industry to the “new” world of finance and real estate. In the second half of the 19th century, Soho provided New York’s industrial center for the making of fabrics, glass and china. In the 1950s, after prestigious businesses moved uptown, sweatshop production took over, and Soho became known as “hell’s hundred acres” with buzzing sweatshops during the day and empty streets at night. In the late 1950s, when in the context of the postwar boom and the Abstract Expressionist movement New York started to claim cultural hegemony, more and more artists moved to Soho, first working and sometimes also living illegally in the empty factory spaces. In 1964, artists and the city negotiated what the sociologist Sharon Zukin called a “historic compromise between culture and capital”, initiating a city redevelopment driven by the cultural capital of artists and the entire visual art sector. {02} The City of New York passed an amendment that entitled artists and their families to rent Soho’s lofts and commercial spaces for combined living and studio use. Hundreds of artists moved to Soho, and within a short period of time, gallery spaces followed. Only a few years later, local interest groups composed largely of artists mobilized to declare Soho a historic landmark based on its heritage of cast-iron buildings and cobblestone streets. {03} The preservation froze the features of a first industrial and then bohemian authenticity in space; it provided a fertile ground for the breeding

of urban mythologies like the Wild West or the savage territory, displacing social conflicts into the realm of mythology. {04} In the course of a unique collaboration between bankers, realtors, media moguls, the emerging professional-managerial class, and artists, Soho transformed from a poor working-class neighborhood into an artists’ district, while many Neoexpressionist artists working in and around Soho unapologetically embraced commercialism and resurrected the doctrine that aestheticism and self-expression were the proper concerns of the arts. {05} In the course of Soho’s cosmetic aestheticization, the dream of loft-living mobilized the signs of the Industrial Age as a nostalgically transfigured décor for the ostentatious setting of a safe and clean postindustrialism. In the late 1970s, artistic production in Soho became increasingly corporate, while real estate prices were booming. In the mid-1980s, Soho residents pushed for a more formal regulation of the amendment passed in the mid-1960s, asking now that Soho’s residents prove their artistic status to the Department of Cultural Affairs. The law was passed but never put in practice. It was too late, and too much was at stake now. Prestigious fashion boutiques had already started to move in. In 1982, the Comme des Garçon store reproduced the aesthetics of a gallery space, exhibiting clothes. A few years later, Helmut Lang presented minimalist fashion items along with artwork by Jenny Holzer, Louise Bourgois and Richard Serra. In the mid-1990s, while Soho turned into an increasingly homogeneous, mall-like commercial corridor, many New York artists raised the questions: “Is Soho over? Where is the new urban frontier?” As early as the late 1970s, artists in search of cheap places or a more subculturally identified art scene started to migrate east into the Lower East Side. In New York’s poorest neighborhoods, where more than forty percent of the total population was considered living in poverty, they found cheap rents that allowed them to organize experimental shows in their own or their friends’ apartment. In 1981, to mention one example, the underground actress Patti Astor and Bill Stelling opened a place called Fun Gallery in an unheated commercial space on East 10th Street. Their most prestigious artists: Jean-Michel Basquiat and Keith Haring. One of the gallery’s major achievements was to bring uptown artists downtown and thereby transfer graffiti art from the street onto the canvas. This shift made street art consumable even for a white audience that would have never dared to visit the streets of Harlem. Learning from Soho, city officials courted the newcomers with the promise of providing and rehabilitating city-owned properties. In addition, a new zoning law offered the legal basis to rent out commercial property to artists based on five-year contracts without rent stabilization. By 1984, over seventy commercial galleries were located in the space of fourteen blocks, and the East Village art scene was fully integrated into the workings of the New York art world. The media celebrated the new art scene with an aggressive rhetoric of “liberation” and “renewal”. In Artforum, the critic Rene Ricard situated his ideal artist in the Lower East Side: “I want my soldiers, I mean artists, to be young and strong, with tireless energy performing impossible feats of cunning and bravura.” {06} East Village art boomed and images of the debilitating tenements and trash-littered sidewalks circulated widely in national and international media. As the images were associated with the cultural cachet of artistic production, a subtle process of resignification took hold of their semiotics. The evaluation

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Simpson, 1981; Smith, 1992.

Deutsche and Ryan, 1987.

Mele Christopher, Selling the Lower East Side: Culture, Real Estate and Resistance in New. York. Univ. of Minnesota Press, 2000; http://www. upress.umn.edu/sles/Chapter7/ch7-3. html

For a documentation of the events see Tompkins Square Park: Operation Class War on the Lower East Side, Paper Tiger TV, New York, 2007; http://blip. tv/paper-tiger-television/tompkinssquare-park-operation-class-war-onthe-lower-east-side-preview-359336

Ruth Glass, London: Aspects of Change. Macgibbon & Kee, 1964, p. 18.

Neil Smith, The Urban Frontier. Gentrification and the Revanchist City. Routledge, 1996, pp. 3–29.

Harvey David, The New Imperialism. Oxford University Press, 2003; Harvey David, Neo-Liberalism as Creative Destruction. In: Geografiska Annaler: Series B, Human Geography, 88, 2006, pp. 145-158.

12 Neil Brenner and Nik Theodore, “Cities and the geographies of actually existing neoliberalism”. In: Antipode 34/3, 2002, pp. 356-386. 13

Incite (Women of Color against Violence), Quality of Life Policing; http://www.incite-national.org/media/ docs/3316_toolkitrev-qualitylife.pdf

14 George Kelling and James Willson, “Broken Window”. In: Atlantic Monthly, March 1982; http://www.theatlantic. com/magazine/archive/1982/03/ broken-windows/4465/

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of the images shifted from fear and repulsion to curiosity and desire. By the late 1980s, the creative boom was a bust, and most of the art spaces were closed. Art historians generally attribute the rapid growth and decline of the art space in the 1980s to an international wave of art speculation that was fueled by profits from the finance and service sectors. {07} But the mental and soon also physical reproduction of the Lower East Side was already taking its own course. Rent prices increased by 400 to 600 percent, even before most of the artists’ five-year contracts expired. A violent battle emerged between real estate agents, old tenants and the new ones moving into the neighborhood. The process escalated in August of 1988, when New York police forces cleared what many people considered the heart of East Village, Tompkins Square Park, and turned it into a bloody battle zone. {08} Ruth Glass first introduced the term “gentrification” in the 1960s, when she described how the lower gentry returned to London’s city center and beautified the yards while displacing the working class. {09} In contrast to the neoliberal rhetoric, which presented the aggressive city rescaling as a natural course of a city moving to a postindustrial mode of production, Neil Smith called what took place in Tompkins Square Park a predatory class and race war. {10} For him, gentrification is a major artillery in the arsenal of a so-called revanchist city. The popular rhetoric of “urban revitalization” and “urban renaissance” indicated the belief that neighborhoods like the Lower East Side had been dead, without life, before the artists’ intervention. As early as 1989, David Harvey warned that urban governance was switching from a redistributive to an entrepreneurial mode of governing: Municipalities started to cut back public services, and major administrative responsibilities of city government were handed over to private–public partnerships, which then mimicked city services like street cleaning, garbage pick-up or police patrols that had steadily fallen victim to the governmental budget cuts. {11} In their analysis of “actually existing neoliberalism,” the geographers Neil Brenner and Nik Theodore studied the city of New York and pointed out massive flows of capital and speculative movements of finances. For them, neoliberalism produced market-oriented economic growth and elitist consumer practices, while at the same time it secured order and control upon the so-called underclass. {12} In 1993, as New York began to lose its status as a leading global city, Rudolph Giuliani was elected mayor on the promise to offer a better “quality of life” for “conventional members of society”. One year later, William J. Bratton was appointed as the head of the NYPD, and the new urban policy program had a name: “zero tolerance”. The concept came out of federal drug enforcement policies in the 1980s; it referred to a policy of allocating additional law enforcement resources to specified areas and then applying immediate and harsh responses with little or no consideration to individual circumstances. {13} The approach has its roots in the “Broken Window Theory”, a criminological belief that claims “that ignoring the little problems … creates a sense of irreversible decline that leads people to abandon the community or to stay away.” {14} In his pursuit of a radical reinvention of New York City, Giuliani introduced an aggressive “quality of life” policing, which focused on a number of previously non-criminal activities such as standing, congregating, jumping a turnstile, sleeping, eating and/or drinking in public spaces, as well as minor offenses such as graffiti, public urination, panhandling, littering, and unlicensed street vending. “Zero tolerance” encouraged increased police presence on the streets, and as an effect, arrests and incarceration rates increased rapidly. Soon it became obvious that the zero

tolerance policies and laws carried the distinct signature of racial profiling. In addition, in the 1980s, “lean” government policy took money away from supporting public services that educated, trained, treated, housed and also nourished the population, especially the children of the poor. With the closing down of after-school programs, to mention one example, more teenagers spent time on the streets. But many white people perceived the presence of unsupervised African-American teenagers hanging out on the street as a sign of danger. In effect, some states changed their approaches to juvenile justice to make the cities appear safer (for white people). Between 1985 and 2000, the prison population grew from 744,206 to 2.0 million. {15} In New York, the city economy started to recover in the mid-1990s mostly due to the emerging dot-com bubble. New York was again recognized as a popular tourist destination. And while Soho turned into an epicenter of world tourism, the pathologies of gentrification accelerated and diffused into neighborhoods bypassed by previous waves of the process, introducing new geographies of inequality, exclusion and displacement. On the street level, police violence continued to prevail in the name of a “war on drugs”, but the main weapon in the displacement of the poor was now the speculative real estate market: The city’s working class poor and ethnic minority population was driven away by sky-rocketing rental prices and terminated rental contracts. In some cases, their apartments and homes were set on fire to speed up their evictions. Artists moved from Williamsburg to New Jersey, Queens and Upstate—and a few years later, Richard Florida published a book on the creative city and its commitment to technology, talent, and tolerance. In Florida’s theory, New York’s transformation briefly sketched out here resembles a model redevelopment for cities in search of a postindustrial identity. At the same time, Florida argued that cities like Detroit “won’t stand a chance unless they can become a magnet for the new class”. Playing Soho in New York against the city of Detroit suggests that there might be an unstated premise at the center of Florida’s thesis: Detroit has in fact been one of the most creative cities in history. The booming capital of Fordism has given rise to Motown, Techno, House, Electronica—rhythms that have not only conquered universal dance halls but also, in Florida’s logic of the argumentation, sustained entire music industries for decades. While the dire circumstances in Detroit, or the South Bronx, to mention another example, obviously gave rise to a host of artistic practices, the racial and working-class demographic of these places prevent them from being considered an engine of America’s creative economy. This is why my conclusion is the following: Florida’s concept of a creative class is not about art, and it is not about creativity. It is an attempt to privilege in public policy the aspirations of capital and the making of an urban landscape of corporate consumption. In September 2011, Occupy Wall Street tried to put a hold on neoliberalism’s accelerated accumulation, the robbing and looting called economic growth. As artists sustained the movement with their ideas, skills, and time, they once again challenged the hymn of a united alliance between “the creatives”, financiers and real estate moguls. Three years into the financial crisis, the vast majority of what Florida considered the core of the creative class—artists, writers, actors, dancers, and poets—now live in a state of existential precarity; many of them have become part of the underpaid or unpaid reserve army of laborers. In alliance with neighborhood advocacy groups, immigrant rights groups and labor groups, these artists are trying to move from gentrification to occupation. To quote Martha Rosler: “Florida says gentrify, we say occupy.” {16}

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Henry Giroux, “Racial Injustice and Disposable Youth in the Age of Zero Tolerance”. Qualitiative Studies in Education 16/4, pp. 53–565; http:// www.csub.edu/~danderson_facile/ docs/Week8_1.pdf

Martha Rosler, “The Artistic Mode of Revolution. From Gentrificaiton to Occupation”. In: eflux 33, March 2012.

SO VIEL PLANUNG, DASS MENSCHEN SEHEN, FÜHLEN, MERKEN, DASS SIE UNGEPLANT ETWAS TUN KÖNNEN [ SAMSTAG IN DER STADT ]

Was bedeutet für Sie intensiv? Ein Tag am Schwendermarkt. Und: Dranbleiben. Kein kurzfristiges Pop-up-Projekt umsetzen, sondern sich auf das Urbane und die Menschen, die es definieren, gestalten und ausverhandeln, einlassen. Schließlich beinhaltet der Begriff „urban“ vor allem gesellschaftliche und soziale Dimensionen.

Und was als die größte Herausforderung? Siehe die erste Frage.

Welche Veränderungen wünschen Sie sich? Was könnte die Arbeit der „Urban Practitioners“ erleichtern? Siehe Frage 6.

Sind Sie Urban Practitioners? Bzw.: Wen würden Sie als Urban Practitioner bezeichnen? Wohl schon. Aber braucht es eine Definition?

Welche Themen finden Sie aufgrund Ihrer beruflichen Erfahrung besonders relevant für die Gesellschaft, die Öffentlichkeit, den öffentlichen Raum? Soziale Ungerechtigkeit, wer mehr hat, darf mehr, wer weniger hat, traut sich weniger zu dürfen.

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Concrete colors: a Bangladesh party on Schwendermarkt in August 2011. A chef from Bangladesh, who used to live in the neighborhood at the time, had the idea to cook on location one evening and invite the Bangladesh Austria Cultural Academy to sing and dance.

Wie viel Planung braucht das Ungeplante? So viel Planung, dass Menschen sehen, fühlen, merken, dass sie ungeplant tun können. Once a market, now a square: the Schwendermarkt in Vienna’s 15th district.

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Verein Samstag, Initiatorinnen SAMSTAG IN DER STADT, www.samstaginderstadt.at

Was empfinden Sie als bereichernd an der Figur/Rolle des Urban Practitioner? Festzustellen, dass sich tatsächlich in der Nutzung des öffentlichen Raums (zumindest am Schwendermarkt) etwas verändert hat: Im Vergleich zu 2010, als wir Samstag in der Stadt starteten, nutzen heute zunehmend mehr Menschen den Platz und sind es (wenn auch marginal) mehr AkteurInnen, die mitgestalten. Bereichernd ist auch Freude von manchen, selbst SkeptikerInnen, wenn sie sehen, wie der Garten blüht und durch die gemeinsame Arbeit ein öffentlicher, eigentlich „ihr“ Platz, lebenswerter wird.

Worauf warten Sie? Wir warten darauf bzw. arbeiten daran, dass das Urbane in seiner gesamten Dimension erfasst und Praxis wirklich gelebt wird. Und letztlich auch darauf, dass unsere Arbeit an der Schnittstelle zwischen künstlerischem Agieren, Interagieren im öffentlichem Raum und sozialen Aktionen in der Förderlandschaft eindeutiger zuorden- und daher auch finanzierbarer wird. Das würde die Arbeit als Urban Practitioners erleichtern.

Nadia Prauhart & Tamara Schwarzmayr

Was erscheint Ihnen besonders schwierig an Ihrem Beruf im Alltag? Behörden und Auflagen, die andauernde persönliche Exponiertheit im öffentlichen Raum, das Füllen von Leerstellen in der Gesellschaft und Politik bzw. Verwaltung.

Von 2011 bis 2012 setze sich Lungomare zum Ziel, im Stadtraum von Bozen ein „Jederland“, ein Stück Allgemeingut umzusetzen. Eine interdisziplinäre Projektgruppe beschäftigte sich auf theoretischer und praktischer Ebene mit den Themen Eigentum und Besitz und mit den damit verbundenen Machtstrukturen, die unser Zusammenleben beeinflussen. Die Gruppe bildeten die DesignerInnen Bianca Elzenbaumer und Fabio Franz von Brave New Alps und Maja Malina, die zwei Architektinnen Eva Mair und Katherina Putzer und die Künstler Helmut Heiss und Jacopo Candotti, sowie die KuratorInnen des Projekts, Angelika Burtscher und Daniele Lupo. Ausgangspunkt für das Projekt war die Analyse: die Gegenüberstellung und die Erweiterung der zwei Begriffe „Monument“ und „Zusammenleben“. Das Projekt hatte das Ziel, den öffentlichen Raum nicht als anonymen Raum, sondern als kollektiven Ort, als Ort der Identifikation und der Identität wahrzunehmen. Ein Thema, das sich besonders im historischen Kontext der Stadt Bozen als komplex erwies. Folgende Prämissen wurden für das Projekt definiert: „Jederland“ möchte ein Grundstück bzw. einige Quadratmeter im Stadtraum Bozen aus dem Eigentumsstatus befreien, um es den Machtver-

Jederland

tur- bzw. Designbüro und interagieren parallel dazu mit dem Projektraum. Die Vermittlung und die Produktion von Design und Kultur werden dabei als parallele und einander gegenseitig beeinflussende Tätigkeiten behandelt, und der Gestaltungsprozess wird als ein offener und disziplinübergreifender Prozess verstanden. Lungomare ist eine Plattform für Kollaborationen, die eine inhaltliche und formale Vernetzung der unterschiedlichen Disziplinen und ineinandergreifenden Prozesse – welche dadurch generiert werden und den Projektraum charakterisieren – forciert: Design, Kunst, Architektur, Stadtplanung und Theorie sind Teil des Programms. Lungomare setzt sich zum Ziel, Kultur und Gestaltung in ihrer Vielfalt wahrzunehmen und die Auswirkung von Kultur und Gestaltung auf die Gesellschaft und auf ihre physischen, sozialen und politischen Kontexte zu untersuchen. Gestaltungsfragen und Arbeitsweisen sollen dabei zu einer kritischen Instanz werden.

Von 2003 bis 2013 sind Angelika Burtscher und Daniele Lupo die künstlerischen Leiter von Lungomare. Als Vorstand hat bis 2005 das Programm von Lungomare folgende interdisziplinäre Gruppe mitbetreut: Patrizia Bertolini, Manuela Demattio, Roberto Gigliotti, Paulpeter Hofer, Brita Köhler.

Die Stadt Bozen und ihr Territorium waren historisch mit ihren kulturellen Einflüssen aus Nord und Süd schon immer Durchzugs gebiete. 1922 wurde Bozen zur nördlichsten Provinz des faschistisch regierten Italiens und hinterlässt nicht nur in der Architektur, sondern auch in der ethnischen Zusammensetzung und im Geschichts bewusstsein der Bevölkerung deutliche Spuren. Die Stadt wurde geteilt und wieder vereint – die heute unsichtbaren Grenzen stecken die Stadt in Räume der Rechtfertigung, des Besitzanspruches und in Räume der politischen Strategiezüge ab und machen politische Verhältnisse sichtbar. Gegenwärtig scheint es, als ob sich die Stadt und ihre BewohnerInnen von Einflüssen von außen schützen möchten. Die StadtbewohnerInnen suchen nach Abgrenzungen und teilen den öffentlichen Raum nicht nur nach ihrem emotionalen und ökonomischen Wert ein, sondern nach Territorien der Sprache, der Kultur und der Geschichte. Der Stadtraum wird zum Identifikationsinstrument, der das Fremde vom Eigenen trennt. Er schließt Zugänge hermetisch ab, Begegnungen werden methodisch verhindert. Mit den öffentlichen Räumen der Stadt setzten sich die BewohnerInnen und die Politik oft erst dann auseinander, wenn sie ihre klare Zuordnung in Bezug auf Sprachgruppe und Kultur verlieren und die Räume symbolisch nicht mehr besetzt werden können. Der

Osservatorio Urbano / Lungomare ]

[ Angelika Burtscher, Roberto Gigliotti –

PRAKTIKEN DES ALLTAGS

hältnissen zu entziehen, denen der Raum gewöhnlich unterliegt. Ein so geschaffener Ort des Vakuums innerhalb der städtischen Struktur soll rigide Gewohnheiten und Systeme aufheben. Ein Denkraum zur Entwicklung neuer Möglichkeiten des Zusammenlebens soll entstehen. Das im Stadtraum Bozen gelegene Grundstück soll einerseits die Hinterfragung der Grenzen rechtlicher Eigentumsregelungen veranlassen und anderseits eine öffentliche Diskussion um Eigentum, Privatbesitz, Gemeinschaft und gemeinschaftliches Gut initiieren. Angesichts allgegenwärtiger territorialer Konflikte spielte unsere Bereitschaft, diese eingefahrenen Begriffe neu zu überdenken, eine bedeutende Rolle. Im Austausch mit einem Juristen wurden rechtliche Regelungen von Eigentum hinterfragt und Möglichkeiten ausgelotet, in das italienische Rechtssystem zu intervenieren: „Jederland“ soll die symbolische Befreiung eines kommerziell besetzten Möglichkeitsraumes erzielen, der ein Imaginations- und Handlungsfeld freilegen und eröffnen kann; die Utopie eines Raumes, der anderen Regeln unterworfen ist, Regeln, die von der Stadtbevölkerung definiert werden. Um diese Regeln zu definieren, muss ein gemeinsamer Konsens gefunden werden und müssen Vorstellungen und Ansichten ausgetauscht werden. Im Mittelpunkt sollen dabei dieser gemeinsame Austausch und das Gespräch über kollektive Vorstellungen von der Verwaltung und Produktion dieses Raumes stehen. Nach einer langen Recherchephase wurden zwei Grundstücke gefunden. Das erste Grundstück überstieg das vorhandene Projektbudget; das zweite Grundstück befand sich in der Industriezone von Bozen – ein aufgeschütteter Hügel über einem Bunker, der während des Zweiten Weltkrieges gebaut wurde. Der Ort war nur schwer zugänglich, und eine gemeinsame Nutzung des Grundstückes vonseiten der Stadtbevölkerung erwies sich als schwierig. Die Projektgruppe hat sich schlussendlich dafür entschieden, auf das Grundstück zu verzichten, und „Jederland“ wurde vor allem zum Anlass, Schlüsselbegriffe, die unserem Konzept zugrunde lagen, im Rahmen von öffentlichen Diskussionen weiterzuentwickeln. Das Projekt wurde während des Rahmenprogramms der Kunstmesse Artissima 2011 in Turin und später in Bozen mit einer Installation und einer Comicserie vertieft. Die Comics vermittelten und provozierten grundsätzliche Fragen rund um die Themen Eigentum, Besitz, öffentlicher Raum, Verantwortung und Gemeinschaftlichkeit.

öffentliche Raum in Bozen ist domestiziert, und mögliche Orte der Begegnung und des Austausches leiden unter einer Politik der Kontrolle – dem Spontanen und Ungeplanten wird wenig Platz gelassen. Auf diesen Problematiken und Entwicklungsmöglichkeiten der Stadt Bozen und ihres Territoriums bauen viele Initiativen des Projektraumes Lungomare {01} auf. Der öffentliche Raum ist für Lungomare einer der vielen Räume, in dem Projekte mit ihrem sozialen und kulturellen Umfeld vernetzt werden. 2005 initiierte Lungomare zusammen mit Manuela Demattio, Roberto Gigliotti und Carlotta Polo das Projekt „osservatorio urbano“, ein langfristiges Labor, das in einem offenen Netzwerk Projekte im urbanen Raum von Bozen und anderen Städten und Regionen initiiert. Das osservatorio urbano benutzt projektspezifische Instrumente, um die Vielschichtigkeiten und Komplexitäten eines Ortes immer wieder aufs Neue zu erforschen. Es positioniert sich bewusst in einer Grauzone zwischen Beobachten und Agieren. Das osservatorio urbano betrachtet die BewohnerInnen der Stadt nicht als passive EmpfängerInnen von Entscheidungen, die sich aus der Stadtplanung und aus der entsprechenden Form der Stadt heraus entwickeln. Alle, die in der Stadt leben, sind aktiv am Schaffen der Form der Stadt und ihres sozialen Gefüges beteiligt, alle sind Urban Practitioners, denn die Stadt wird immer praktiziert, auch in alltäglichen Aktionen. Das osservatorio urbano nimmt bewusst von den konventionellen Praktiken und Methoden der Stadtplanung Abstand und experimentiert mit einer „anderen“ Annäherung. Es produziert „nicht exakte“ Instrumente, die den Emotionen und dem Unvorhersehbaren Raum lassen, und versucht, mit den BewohnerInnen der Stadt eine Betrachtungsweise zu teilen. Die Stadt konstituiert sich – wenn auch nicht in erster Linie – durch Eindrücke, Ideen, Vorstellungen und Wahrnehmungen der Menschen, die sie täglich erleben. So wird der objektive kartografische Blick aus der Vogelperspektive mit dem Blick von „mittendrin“, also dem persönlichen und emotionalen Blick der StadtbewohnerInnen, überlagert. Der Projektraum Lungomare und das Netzwerk osservatorio urbano schaffen eine Interaktion mit Personen aus unterschiedlichen gestalterischen und theoretischen Disziplinen. Beide Aktivitäten sind eng mit der Praxis verbunden. Die InitiatorInnen haben ein Architek-

Jederland (Everyland), 2012, installation. Artissima Lido, 2012

Jederland (Everyland), 2012. Courtesy of Lungomare, Bolzano

2010 wurde das osservatorio urbano zur Ausstellung „Legal Disagreements“ in die Villa Romana nach Florenz eingeladen. Als Beitrag zur Ausstellung entstand das Video Sette per sette {3}. Das Briefing zur Ausstellung beschäftigte sich mit den Regeln und Gesetzen zur Verwaltung der Stadt Florenz und forderte die Teilnehmenden auf, in den Grauzonen und undefinierten Zwischenräumen dieser Gesetze zu intervenieren. Die Innenstadt von Florenz ist täglich einem Fluss von TouristInnenströmen ausgesetzt und erlebt ein starkes Phänomen der Gentrifizierung. Den öffentlichen Raum regeln vehement strenge Gesetze und Verordnungen der Stadtverwaltung, die offiziell zum Schutz der wertvollen historischen Denkmäler der Stadt dienen sollen. Nach einer Recherche vor Ort rückten für das osservatorio urbano folgende Fragen in den Mittelpunkt: Ist die Einführung der starren Regelung des öffentlichen Raumes eine bewusste Ausübung der Kontrolle? Welchen Einfluss hat die „Verwaltung“ der TouristInnenströme auf den Alltag von StadtbewohnerInnen? Kann man in einem Museum

Sette per sette

Ein Blog {2} als zentrales Element des Projektes veröffentlichte alle produzierten Materialien und legte die Projektschritte offen. Zusätzlich entstand ein kollektives Glossar, das Begriffe der Diskussionen und Zitate aus den Gastvorträgen und den gemeinsamen Gesprächen zusammenfasste. Als Projektabschluss eröffnete Lungomare eine Commontheke, die Literatur zum Thema sammelte und allen Interessierten in Lungomare zum Verleih zur Verfügung stellte. Das Projekt entwickelte sich somit vor allem in Richtung Plattform für den Wissens transfer und den Austausch; utopische Gedanken waren Anlass, um Grenzen aufzubrechen und praktische Lösungsansätze zu suchen.

http://www.symbolicactionsforourpresent.lungomare.org Sette per sette: Drehbuch und Regie: Angelika Burtscher, Roberto Gigliotti, Daniele Lupo; InterpretInnen: Curzio Castellan, Claudio Degasperi, Riccardo Franchi, Gianpietro Gai, Andreas Pichler, Teodora Lara Rivadeneira, Monica Trettel; Fotografie: Daniel Mahlknecht; Schnitt und Ton: Stefano Bernardi

leben? Wer sind überhaupt die BewohnerInnen einer Stadt, und in welche stellvertretenden Kategorien können sie unterteilt werden? Zudem geht Sette per sette Fragen des Zusammenlebens zwischen der „außergewöhnlichen“ Nutzung einer Stadt als TouristIn und dem „normalen“ Bewohnen einer Stadt, wirtschaftsbezogenen Fragen in Verbindung mit Tourismus sowie Fragen nach der öffentlichen Ordnung und der realen oder wahrgenommenen Kontrolle einer Stadt nach. Die Ausganspunkte, die Themen und die Inhalte der Diskussion gehen von den Charakteristiken der Stadt Florenz aus, möchten aber die generelle Bedeutung dieser Inhalte betonen. Aus diesem Grund bleibt die Stadt, um die sich die Inszenierung dreht, namenlos. Das Video Sette per sette ist ein Rollenspiel, das sieben Personen rund um einen Tisch versammelt, die angeregt untereinander diskutieren. Jede beteiligte Person interpretiert eine vorgegebene Rolle: den Bürgermeister, den Bewohner, einen Kaufmann der Stadt, einen Touristen, einen Ausländer und einen Straßenkünstler. Nach einigen Minuten Diskussion stehen die TeilnehmerInnen auf und übernehmen eine neue Rolle. Die Diskussion beginnt vom Neuem, neue Szenarien entfalten sich. Die DiskussionsteilnehmerInnen sind keine SchauspielerInnen. Sie bringen ihre realen und persönlichen Erfahrungen in das Projekt mit ein und reflektieren über die Möglichkeit, unterschiedliche Blickwinkel und Bedürfnisse der diversen Kategorien, die sie in diesem Rollenspiel einnehmen, zu vergleichen. Die Vergleiche entstehen anhand unterschiedlicher Mentalitäten und Visionen der beteiligten Personen und anhand des Zusammenspiels der Rollen, die sie jeweils während der Diskussionsrunde für einige Minuten einnehmen.

Aus dem Vergleich und der Gegenüberstellung der oft unterschiedlichen Meinungen tauchen Bilder auf, die den Alltag in der Stadt beschreiben. Die Verbindungen und Beziehungen, die erkennbar werden, sind vielfältig und komplex; die Überzeugung, dass irgendeine Form von Kontrolle notwendig sei, liegt allen Gesprächen im gesamten Video zugrunde. Immer wieder äußern die BürgerInnen den Wunsch, selbst wieder in Besitz der eigenen Stadt zu kommen. Auch der Tourist möchte in einer „echteren“ und „lebendigeren“ Stadt willkommen sein. Es herrscht die allgemeine Überzeugung, dass der Tourist ein gefährlicher „Anderer“ sei und dass die Stadt vor dem Tourismus geschützt werden müsse. Immer wieder taucht der Begriff „Museum“ auf: Einerseits könnte die Idee eines „Ausstellungsraums im Freien“ für die Stadt, die so reich an Monumenten ist, ein Potenzial darstellen. Das „Museum“ wird aber als geschlossener und unerreichbarer Ort wahrgenommen, in dem alles, was präsentiert wird, sich hinter einem Glaskasten befindet und mit einem Sicherheitsabstand betrachtet werden muss. Wir gehen davon aus, dass ein Planungsprozess ein ununterbrochener Prozess zwischen der Auseinandersetzung mit dem Bestand und der Umsetzung eines Entwurfs ist. Der Prozess endet aber nicht mit der Umsetzung. Die hier präsentierten Aktionen und Interventionen sind vielmehr als punktuelle Eingriffe innerhalb dieses Vorgangs zu verstehen und positionieren sich zwischen der Analyse- und der Bewertungsphase. Die Miteinbeziehung eines „anderen“ Blickwinkels in die Planung macht unerwartete Lösungen und Ansätze möglich und eröffnet neue und nachhaltige Prozesse. Wir möchten die Planung nicht als linearen und problemlösenden Vorgang sehen, sondern – entsprechend der Komplexität der zeitgenössischen Gesellschaft und Stadt – als Praxis, die im Zusammenspiel mit anderen Disziplinen und Instrumenten individuell auf eine vorgegebene Situation reagiert. Eine Praxis des Zuhörens wird dabei aktiv entwickelt. Das Experimentelle, das Unvorhersehbare und das chorale Lesen der Stadt werden so zu einem wichtigen Teil unseres Agierens. Eine solche Annäherungsweise fordert eine bewusste Haltung, sowohl von der Seite „konventioneller“ Planender als auch von der Seite der – in diesem Kontext genannten – Urban Practitioners. Viele Beispiele zeigen, dass eine solche Haltung zu überraschend positiven Ergebnissen führen kann: Voraussetzung ist, dass die Verantwortlichen und die von ihnen beauftragten PlanerInnen das Potenzial einer solchen Herangehensweise erkennen. Es soll sich eine Bereitschaft entwickeln, die Ergebnisse dieser Annäherungsweise in den Bauleitplan einfließen zu lassen. Gleichzeitig dürfen sich die Urban Practitioners nicht hinter einer künstlich geschaffenen Aura verstecken, sie müssen sich als Teil eines Prozesses sehen und die Ergebnisse ihrer Annäherung nicht als fertige Resultate, sondern als Beitrag zu einer kollektiven Planung verstehen.

Video still, Sette per sette. Courtesy of Lungomare, Bolzano

NOTES ON COMMONING AND THE NEW ROLE OF THE URBAN PRACTITIONER

[ Stefan Gruber, Anette Baldauf ] In the context of aggressive waves of privatization, enclosures, policing, and surveillance, the commons have resurfaced as a key concept in discussions of alternative societies and new social movements. This reemergence raises a series of questions: Can this old idea of the commons provide a new strategy to disrupt capitalist appropriations and ever-accelerating cycles of gentrification? Can it help us to reframe the debate on public space, which still lingers on the naïve assumption that state and market work in opposition? And can it contribute to redefining the role and agency of the so-called urban practitioner?

Beyond the Market and the State

“For nearly three centuries we have thought of democracy as the administration of public matters, that is, as the institutionalization of the Statist appropriation of the common. Today democracy can no longer be thought of but in radically different terms: as common management of the common. This management implies, in turn, a redefinition of cosmopolitan space and a redefinition of constituent temporality.” (Antonio Negri and Judith Revel, 2008)

The creative insights and energies developed in and around the commons debate promise to reframe a set of issues that neither the debate on the nation state nor that on the market have been able to address. Today, in a historic convergence of events, three main forces are challenging the social conventions of ownership along with the prevalent dichotomy between private and public: the crisis of capitalism, pressing environmental issues and technological innovation towards a network society.

(1) The crisis of capitalism. Capitalism is shedding its material origins and successively turning to the commodification of information, culture and social relations. We are experiencing a shift in which ownership gives way to temporary access, prompting a new round of enclosure of the commons and a hyper-capitalist culture, where all of life becomes a paid-for experience (Rifkin, 2000). Concurrently, the global economic crisis has exposed the flaws of the “free-market” ideology. Many states have responded with a regime of austerity and cuts in social services in an effort to revive the old system and cling to the idea of prosperity through growth. The flagrant alliance between state and market however has once more broken public trust in the state’s role as advocate for the common good. The many protests, as well as more optimistic initiatives of self-organization, have sparked an intense discourse on commons as a means of establishing a new political discourse and alternate forms of co-operation.

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(2) Environmental issues. In the 1960s, Gerrit Hardin argued that common resources inevitably lead to a sustainability tragedy, and that the conflict between common and self-interests can only be contained through privatization or direct state management (Hardin, 1968). In more recent years, historical and economic research (most prominently by Eleanor Ostrom) has shown that existing commons rarely encountered these problems in specific situations, because the commoners devised rules for accessing resources. Hardin’s legendary interpretation labeled “tragedy of the commons” is flawed, because he regarded commons as mere resources subject to open access and neglected the power of community and commoning as social praxis. Beyond the dichotomy between private and public, the key question thus becomes how individual interests can be articulated in such a way as to constitute common interests (De Angelis in an interview with An Architektur, 2010). But with increasing scale and when confronted with “the global commons”, the challenge of community building grows proportionally. Globalization has come full circle, as it becomes ever more difficult for capitalism to externalize costs: there is no outside any longer. So it is unsurprising that global environmental pressures and dwindling natural resources have fuelled the discourse on commons with urgency. Today, the ubiquitous talk on sustainability can no longer be addressed without tackling the challenges of social justice. (3) Technological innovation. Social changes and technological transformations have always been intimately related. Today they share an underlying network organization (Castells, 1996). Locative technology and social media support individuals to self-organize and form trans-local networks that possess the swarming intelligence, real-time flexibility and clout to challenge multi-national corporations and governments alike. Ironically, the very tools and mesh-like forms of organization that have boosted the late capitalist economy empower its contesters. The open-source movement has shown how economic value can emerge from cooperation beyond exclusive property. Based on reciprocity, these peer-to-peer communities are undermining widespread assumptions on productivity, profit, and the core principal of the scarcity economy. Meanwhile initiatives such as creative commons and copyleft are challenging the legal principles of ownership. Finally, the sharing culture is spreading far beyond the virtual realm. Indeed, alternative economies based on barter, social currency, and time banks redefine consumers as prosumers on platforms ranging from couch-surfing to tool libraries, food-coops to landshare and barterschool to peer-to-peer lending. But what is heralded as the new sharing economy has also become the target for new enclosures. Sharing is being marketed as a lifestyle; the act of commoning itself is turned into a commodity. Each of these developments points towards the commons as a possible entry point for the repudiation of neoliberal politics and inspires the envisioning of alternatives beyond markets or states. Barely visible gestures and public floggings come together to provide the foundation for a new economic, political and social discourse that builds on, and helps to articulate, the many existing struggles that currently recognize the power to challenge the mantra of capitalist accumulation and profit-driven growth. While the past twenty years are marked by a growing retreat of radical visions for alternative futures, the debate on the commons insists that another world is possible.

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With the gradual demise of the welfare state since the 1980s, city administrations have moved from a redistributive to an entrepreneurial mode of governing. Concerned with stimulating private investment, municipal planning efforts have increasingly focused on already privileged strata of the population, giving rise to an archipelago of highly developed enclaves amidst a sea of left-over and derelict territories. Such island urbanism causes the spatial discontinuities and social polarization characteristic of the post-Fordist city. Meanwhile it is precisely the areas that are neglected by planners, the state and the market—zones seemingly worthless in traditional real estate terms —that also present opportunities for the development of alternate forms of urbanity and of co-inhabiting the city. “Only here, beyond the controlled enclaves, can temporary, informal and innovative urban practices emerge”, argue the Berlin-based group Urban Catalysts in their exploration of informal temporary use (Oswalt, Overmeyer, Misselwitz, 2013). Through their practice, artists and architects have long contributed to opening up unlikely territories for urban development, often compensating for a lack of financial capital with individual initiative, hands-on know-how, social skills and the power of imagination. Instead of building anew, they urbanize by rediscovering, reinterpreting and reprograming what already exists—colonization gives way to accessing under used resources. Equipped with a heightened sensibility for latent potential and a distinct pragmatism for minimal interventions, their work is highly contextual and user-based. But the success of their initiatives ultimately depends on community involvement, coproduction and self-management. In fact, these so-called urban practitioners often see their role rather as one of facilitators or intermediaries between self-organization and established urban planning procedures. Thus, they contest the dualism between mere top-down and bottom-up interventions and open the discussion for negotiating between two seemingly incompatible paradigms. Both are essential for the vitality and resilience of any urban milieu. But the moment when the formal and informal begin to intersect, the spaces in which the interests of municipalities, the market and alternative urbanities overlap, also harbor the greatest potential for conflict. It is here that the twisted relationship between the state, capitalism and the commons unfolds in all its complexity. The question then becomes how to render such conflicts productive? How to conceptualize and transform the interstitial spaces that emerge from an archipelago urbanism and that are subject to continuous deterritorialization into the arena of an agonistic city?

The Commons and Capitalism “As we begin to conceptualize contingent relationships where invariant logics once reigned, the economy loses its character as an asocial body in lawful motion and instead becomes a space of recognition and negotiation.” (Gibson-Graham, 2006) In the course of their vast proliferation in recent years, commons have provided not only a new entry point to anti-capitalist critique and activism; they are now also used as a force of economic growth. In other words, capital is promoting the commons in its own way. The pervasive spread of forms of secluded living, most prevalently in gated communities, or the ready-made hyper-mobile lifestyle in so-called “smart housing”, but also exclusive

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variations of educational, health or food commoning indicate how smoothly the alternative value systems of the commons are integrated into the workings of capitalism. Thus at one end of the political spectrum, the commons serve as a galvanizing vision for moving away from capitalist markets and the mantra of accumulative growth; at the other end, the making of commons is an integrated feature of capitalist reproduction.

tools for urban redevelopment are to be introduced. In this light, the commons debate on the city offers important insights, as it shifts the focus from the actual resource to the act and process of negotiation.

In fact, the intimate link between commons and capitalism is far from new and the history of the commons has always been closely coupled with a history of enclosure. To mention a few recent examples: In the 1980s, when the UK became the vanguard of a politics of privatization, strategies like squatting spread vastly in social movements; in the 1990s, when more and more U.S. municipalities adopted corporate modes of governing, the debate on creative commons was celebrated as a means for the reorganization of culture and the arts; and when the robbing and looting of speculative finance manifested itself in the dispossessions of the recent economic crisis, social movements around the world called for creative strategies of occupation and revocation. On the other hand, there are also many ideological overlaps between “progressive” movements and neoliberalism tending to pass unrecognized (Mayer, 2010). Claims of spontaneity, appreciation of autonomy, self-determination and self-management and an explicit anti-statism are ideas shared by anarchist visions and corporate practices alike. Both see interventions of the state as encroaching upon self-determination and individual responsibility, and ultimately each opposes all forms of centralized power. So how can we tackle today’s paradox that the concept of the commons serves a prominent role in projects that intend to both challenge and reaffirm the saturated commodification of society?

“The commons is fundamentally about social relationships. Commons are not the resources themselves but the set of relationships that are forged among individuals and a resource and individuals with each other.” (Silke Helfrich, 2012)

The relationship between artistic urban practices and gentrification is equally intertwined. On the one hand, the urban practitioners, to quote the Urban Catalysts, “operate to a substantial extent in the gray zone of the non-profit sector, experiment irrespective of economic gain, cooperate with voluntary initiatives, and make a considerable contribution to the social equilibrium and social stabilization of neighborhoods”. On the other hand, their work has become a beacon for investment: “Those who create an interesting and stimulating everyday neighborhood life lose it to the predatory practices of the real estate entrepreneurs, the financiers and upper class consumers bereft of any urban social imagination. The better the common qualities a social group creates, the more likely it is to be raided and appropriated by private profit-maximizing interests like the real estate market and capitalist enclosure”, describes David Harvey as he dissects the correlation between the making of urban commons and mechanisms of enclosure. It is here that the fallacy of the creative city is to be reconsidered. But what does it mean for today’s knowledge-based economy that civic innovation and social imagination are continuously pushed to the margins and then absorbed by the mechanisms of capitalism?

Urban Practice as Commoning

Amongst the many, often competing definitions of the commons, one central premise of current debates is that commons do not exist as such: commons are not yet made but they are in the making. They are in the process of becoming, are a product of negotiation, reclaiming, revocation. “There are no commons without incessant activities of commoning, of (re)producing in common”, is one of the central phrases of the commons debate in the English-speaking world. The term “commoning” was coined by Peter Linebaugh (2008). Commons rely on social practices. They are a verb, not a noun. Or, to quote David Harvey, “the common is not to be construed … as a particular kind of thing, asset or even social process, but as an unstable and malleable social relation between a particular self-defined social group and those aspects of its actually existing or yet-to-be-created social and/or physical environment deemed crucial to its life and livelihood” (Harvey, 2012). Similarly, artistic and alternative urban strategies are shifting the focus away from an obsession with the built environment as final product to initiating processes: social practice as outcome. But compared to many frustrating experiences of formal participation, in which marginalized players are involved without being given decision-making powers, today’s social practices are driven by a do-it-yourself attitude. The growing distrust in both the market and the state inspires city dwellers to gain influence over their environment. Planning gives way to trial and error, decisions and results are negotiated iteratively, and authorship and responsibilities are shared. As a result, the incomplete and the temporary are recognized as opportunities for giving rise to a more hybrid and pluralistic city. Accordingly, the key role of the urban practitioner, rather than providing solutions, increasingly becomes one of asking the right questions. Here the long-standing debate on the commons offers valuable guidance in asking: What are the strategies of decision-making, how are conflicts negotiated? How are hierarchies dis/articulated, exclusion produced and dis/ability dis/articulated? Are the social relationships considered a means or an end (to what?), what qualities of social bonds emerge in the context of commoning? How do the commoners negotiate a politics of care, how are responsibilities and obligations negotiated? What role does affective labor play and what are its dominant currencies?

Notes on Commoning

Antonio Negri, Judith Revel, Inventing the Common, 2008; http://www. generation-online.org/p/fp_revel5.htm Jeremy Rifkin, The Age of Access: the New Culture of Hypercapitalism, Where All of Life Is a Paid-for Experi ence. New York: Penguin Putnam, 2000. Garrett Hardin, “The Tragedy of the Commons”, in: Science, New Series, Issue 162/3859, 1968, pp. 1243–1248. Elinor Ostrom, Governing the Commons: The Evolution of Institution for Collec tive Action. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990. An Architektur, “On the Commons: A Public Interview with Massimo De Angelis and Stavros Stravrides.” In: e-flux. Issue 17, 06/2010; http://www. e-flux.com/journal/on-the-commonsa-public-interview-with-massimo-deangelis-andstavros-stavrides/ Manuel Castells, The Information Age: Economy, Society, and Culture, Volume 1: The Rise of the Network Society, Oxford: Blackwell Publishers, 1996. Philipp Oswalt, Klaus Overmeyer, Philipp Misselwitz, Urban Catalyst, Mit Zwischennutzungen Stadt entwickeln, Berlin: Dom Publishers, 2013. J.K. Gibson-Graham, A Postcapitalist Politics, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2006. Mayer, Margit, Neoliberal Urbanization and the Politics of Contestation. In: Heidi Sohn, MIguel Robles-Duran & Tahl Kaminer (eds.), Urban Asymmetries. Studies in Uneven Urban Development, Rotterdam: 010 Publishers, 2010. Silke Helfrich/Heinrich-Böll-Stiftung, Commons. Für eine neue Politik jenseits von Markt und Staat, Bielefeld: transcript Verlag, 2012. Peter Linebaugh, The Magna Carta Manifesto: Liberties and Commons for All, Berkeley: University of California Press, 2008.

Hacker spaces and DIY maker hubs are becoming the models for creative corporate environments, and municipalities and developers alike are adopting the rhetoric of alternate urban cultures—without necessarily updating their urban policies. It is precisely in this ambiguous territory of claiming and reclaiming, appropriation and re-appropriation that the role of the urban practitioners unfolds. It is here that new criteria, methods, and

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Literature

David Harvey, Rebel Cities: From the Right to the City to the Urban Revolution, London/New York: Verso, 2012.

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Floor plan of sculpture/pavilion

Playing the tangram game (scale 1:10) in the project space, 2011

Graphic design of overlapping tangram figures

Quotation from a press text by Werner Fenz (Director of the Institute for Art in the Public Sphere Styria). transparadiso’s project was conceived as the beginning of a longerterm cooperation of the town of Liezen in the framework of “Platzwahl” (“Choosing one’s place”), a new project series of the Institute for Art in the Public Sphere Styria. It came into being at the initiative of the Kirchen viertel Liezen.

Commons Come to Liezen began in the autumn of 2010, when a group of shopkeepers approached the Institut für Kunst im öffentlichen Raum (Institute for Art in the Public Sphere) Styria with the idea of an art project to provide new impulses for the decaying city center. Characterized by the metalworking industry, the town is located far from other agglomerations, but at a traffic crossroads in Austria’s geographical center. Liezen saw marked growth after World War II, but today it suffers from its strategic positioning as shopping hub on the major road through the Enns Valley. As a result, many stores in the town center are now empty.

“With this concept, art becomes a space for thought and action, leaving behind the classical notion of art as sculpture, painting or drawing, and intervenes directly in people’s living environments via a series of dialogues.” (Werner Fenz ) {01}

transparadiso [ Barbara Holub & Paul Rajakovics ]

COMMONS COME TO LIEZEN

Ibid., p. 21.

Half-empty pavilion during the course of the project , 2011

Michael Hardt, “Production and Distribution of the Common_A Few Questions for the Artist”, in open, 2009/16: “Politics involve the production of the commons (not only the distribution), i.e.the production and reproduction of social relations and forms of life”, p. 26.

Tangram is a Chinese puzzle game. It was very popular in Austria and Germany in the late 19th century, where it was made of pottery and marketed under names such as “Quälgeist” (“Tormentor”).

Fenz.

Quotation from the press text by Werner

Pierre Bourdieu makes a fundamental distinction between economic, cultural and social capital; the term “social capital” was used before him, for example by Adorno and Jacobs. See: Pierre Bourdieu, “Ökonomisches Kapital, kulturelles Kapital, soziales Kapital”. In: Soziale Ungleichheit. Reinhard Kreckel (ed.), Göttingen: Schwartz, 1983, pp. 183–198.

Commons Come to Liezen questions the belief in current-day processes marked by neoliberal economics. The project initiates and realizes new forms of communal action, referring above all to the political dimension of new forms of commons as described by Michael Hardt: as production and reproduction of social relationships and ways of life. {03} Finally, the issue is about more than the classical question of distribution.

Working together as a productive force— an art project as an open process Liezen’s town park was previously an orchard and still serves as a commons (the people of Liezen harvest the fruit jointly). A pavilion was erected there that functions first of all as a storage space for large-scale tangram pieces {02}. The pieces are sold as a limited edition of art objects and as part of a collective work of art. As they are sold, the pavilion empties out. The proceeds go directly back to Liezen and to the local population, and they are earmarked for the events that are to take place in the pavilion. Months before the pavilion was built, transparadiso invited the public to play tangram. While people were playing, they could discuss vital topics concerning the city and its future as well as the fact that not many residents identify strongly with the city.

Playing tangram with objects (1:1) in the town park, 2011

The project called the town park to the attention of many local people of Liezen for the first time—and thereby also made them aware of the quality of an outside perspective that opens up a new view of (supposed) urban problems and unloved places. The people of Liezen played tangram enthusiastically. Even if the societal effects of artistic strategies in Liezen still need time to unfold, the “thorn has been placed” {06} (in form of the pavilion). The game will continue …

In consequence, “taking part“ in a collective work of art such as Commons Come to Liezen also means taking responsibility in order to continue the “participating” process of sharing. By purchasing a tangram piece, a person becomes part of a community that owns an art piece individually and collectively. In other words, collectors buy both cultural and social capital {05}—which can, in turn, be reintroduced into circulation (the value of the art piece on the art market will rise as demand increases)—and the potential of further communal use of the pavilion will grow in this way as well.

Sharing and participating Philosopher Jacques Rancière considers the relationship between politics and aesthetics a conceptual problem: artistic practices are opportunities for doing things and acting. The process of sharing (French: “le partage”) includes sharing in two senses: dividing up as well as taking part in what is common to people. Both contribute to common wealth {04}.

After the

Applause

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Topics What is the role of the urban practitioner “after the applause”, when the (artistic) project has come to an end? | How does this role change before, during and after the event / project? | Is the role of the urban practitioner at one location ever finished? | How can the unplannable and the unplanned function as a strategy in contrast to and together with conventional planning methods? | How can the energy and public awareness be transformed and used for a longer-term strategy and cooperation with the city and urban planning departments? | What new forms of temporality and planning rhythm are needed to involve the urban practitioner on an equal footing in longer-term cooperations? | reflective discipline.

Field Tests in a City of Motion Cities have been set in motion: they can no longer be considered as exclusive, territorially located, nationally contextualised units; rather they are a flexible entity in which widely diverse currents of people, goods, ideas, images, information and cultures are concentrated, each in their own special way. In view of the explosive juxtaposition of different spatial and temporal relationships, the criteria available to urban researchers in terms of what urban life now really is, are no longer sufficient to describe the particular form of socialisation called the city. Current debates in urban research are dominated by criticism of a stereotyped, leitmotif-driven concept of the city, continuing to this day. The controversy surrounding the subject of the city has also reached disciplines involved in shaping the city, such as architecture and urban planning—ownership structures, clients, institutions and constellations of players are all changing. Architects and planners operate less as experts with particular institutionalised agendas than as catalysts, curators, agents or mediators. In the discourse concerning a new planning culture, there has been talk for some time now of a paradigm shift: a shift of dominance from the planner’s and architect’s planning space towards the resident’s living space. What comes to the fore here is a second-level spatial production. The lecture discusses parallels and contradictions between definitions of objects in current urban research and the attempts at the definition of planning and architectural interventions in the urban space. Two tendencies of this change in perspective are to be examined. Firstly, one consequence of the shift of the city’s significance from the object of what is built to the process of acting in the city is that the design activity is targeted more at identifying problems than at solving them. Secondly, the expansion of the design’s field of action is also linked to a critical examination of the discipline itself. The intention is to discuss to what extent, in the wide range of urban projects that test out the possibilities of urban commitment by means of architectural art and design, contributions for a new conception of architecture and planning can also be developed as a critically reflective discipline. (Regina Bittner)

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01 Mitschrift des Vortrages von Abdou Maliq Simone, „Religiously urban and faith in the city: reflections on the movements of youth in Central Africa and Southeast Asia“ zur Konferenz „Global Prayers“, Haus der Kulturen der Welt, 25.2.2012. 02

Neil Smith, “Foreword”, in Henri Lefebvre, The Urban Revolution, London/Minneapolis, 2003, S. XI.

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Angesichts der dynamischen Urbanisierungsprozesse in den Städten des globalen Südens spricht der Stadtforscher Abdoumaliq Simone vom „Miracle of the City“. Diese Stadt ereignet sich permanent aus der alltäglichen und konflikthaften Auseinandersetzung um Ressourcen, Infrastruktur und Raum, und keinerlei Skript liegt ihr zugrunde. Sie setzt sich zusammen aus den großen und kleinen Erzählungen der Suche nach einem besseren Leben, um deretwillen Menschen ihre Dörfer verlassen, um am Ende doch als Schuhputzer in den Straßen Kolkatas zu landen. Sie findet statt unter den schier unmöglichen Bedingungen, auf so engem Raum mit wenig bzw. gar nicht vorhandener Infrastruktur zusammenleben zu müssen. Im Grunde ist sie eine unmögliche Stadt, wie er es beschreibt, die paradoxerweise trotz ihrer versprochenen Möglichkeiten aufgesucht wird – denn es scheint immer noch besser, in der Carmac Street Essen für die Geschäftsleute aus den umliegenden Bürohäusern zu kochen, als in Bihar ein Leben ohne diesen Horizont anderer Möglichkeiten zu führen. „The Miracle of the City“, das Simone hier beschreibt, hatte eine Polemik gegen die „fundamentalistische Stadt“ zum Hintergrund. Damit war überraschenderweise aber nicht das von Nezar al Sajad publizierte Buch zu neuen religiösen Bewegungen in den Städten des globalen Südens und vor allem des mittleren Ostens gemeint. Die fundamentalistische Stadt in der Lesart Simones thematisiert eine leitmotivische Vorstellung von Stadt und Urbanität, wie sie nicht nur der Diskurs um die europäische Stadt zum Hintergrund hat. Insofern zielt seine Polemik auf eine schablonenhafte Idee von Stadt, die sich im Stadtdiskurs auf merkwürdig normative Weise bis heute fortschreibt. Die Stadt, die Simone beschreibt, lässt sich mit solchen der Stadtforschung zur Verfügung stehenden Kriterien dessen, was das Städtische nun sei, kaum beschreiben: Kategoriale Zuschreibungen wie die Unterscheidung zwischen Stadt und Land, die Aufgabe von Traditionen, religiösen und familiären Bindungen, die Herausbildung spezifischer Institutionen und Verhaltensmuster, der Zusammenhang zwischen Industrialisierung und Verstädterung scheinen diesen Zustand der Urbanisierung nicht erfassen zu können. {01} Wenn Ziegenherden durch den städtischen Verkehr laufen, der Park zur Anbaufläche, die Straße zum Dorfplatz und das Autohaus zur Moschee wird und dabei Stadt stattfindet – dann gerät der Forscher in Definitionsnot. Der angesprochene Widerspruch ließe sich dahingehend auflösen, dass es sich in den Städten des globalen Südens lediglich um Prozesse nachholender Modernisierung handelt. Dieses Interpretationsmuster folgt der Annahme, den Industrialisierungsschüben im globalen Süden würden auch vergleichbare Verstädterungsprozesse folgen. Doch bereits in den 1970er-Jahren hatte der französische Philosoph Henri Lefebvre im Nachklang der internationalen Studentenproteste, die ausnahmslos alle in großen Metropolen stattfanden, von einer „urban revolu tion“ gesprochen. Er vertrat die damals überraschende These, dass gegenüber den Dynamiken der Industrialisierung, die fast zwei Jahrhunderte die kapitalistische Gesellschaft geprägt haben, nun die Dynamiken des Urbanen den Prozess der Vergesellschaftung dominieren werden, und zwar weltweit. {02} Das Urbane wurde dabei als strategischer Ort und strategisches Objekt der gesellschaftlichen Entwicklung beschrieben. Die Produktion des Raumes – und zwar in seinen drei Dimensionen: „representational space, spatial practice

Feldversuche in bewegter Stadt

and spaces of representation“ – wurde zum dominanten Prozess der Reproduktion sozialer Beziehungen. In ihrem Kern brachte Lefebvre dabei eine Kategorie in Anschlag, die in der marxistischen Theoriebildung bisher wenig Berücksichtigung gefunden hatte: den Alltag. Vor dem Hintergrund von Kommerzialisierung, Homogenisierung und Fragmentierung der Lebenswelt in der kapitalistischen Gesellschaft vermutete er im Alltag, im „lived space“, eine Ressource des Möglichen, der Kreativität und Autonomie. Lefebvres Schriften, lange in der deutschen Stadtforschung vernachlässigt, bildeten die Grundlage eines Neudenkens von Stadt, mit zweifellos ambivalenten Effekten. Städte werden dabei als die strategischen Orte der postindustriellen Dienstleistungsgesellschaft mit Begriffen wie Wissens-, Kreativ- oder auch Unternehmens- und Erlebnisstadt entworfen und weniger als exklusive, territorial fixierte, national kontextualisierte Einheiten; vielmehr als bewegliche Gebilde, in der sich vielfältige Ströme von Menschen, Waren, Ideen, Bildern, Informationen und Kulturen auf jeweils besondere Weise verdichten. Städte also als spezifische Modi sozialräumlicher Zusammenfassung zu beschreiben folgt dabei weniger einer normativen und leitmotivischen Vorstellung von Stadt, wie sie z. B. das Theorem der europäischen Stadt zum Hintergrund hatte, sondern interessiert sich für das jeweilige Spezifische der Herstellung von Stadt. Simones Emphase für das „Wunder Stadt“ setzt hier an – er fordert dazu auf, sich dafür zu interessieren, wie Stadt jeweils stattfindet, auch in ihrer unerträglichen Explosivität und Heterogenität. Aber während hier noch Emphase für die Produktivkraft des Städtischen – die Kreativität des Alltags, des Möglichen – mitschwingt, erweist sich im westlichen Diskurs die „bewegte Stadt“ als höchst ambivalent: Es entsteht der Eindruck, dass unternehmerische, kreative Städte selbst zur eigentlichen Ressource und zum privilegierten Ort der spätmodernen kapitalistischen Wissens- und Dienstleistungsgesellschaft geworden sind. Dabei tragen die an der Produktion der „conveived spaces“ oder „spaces of representation“ – also des im Lefebvre’schen Duktus konzipierten und entworfenen Raumes – Beteiligten, nämlich ArchitektInnen, DesignerInnen, KünstlerInnen, KuratorenInnen und KulturproduzentInnen, nicht unerheblich dazu bei. Sie sind die Zielgruppe unternehmerischer Stadtpolitik: Mit dem Rückzug des sozial und räumlich homogenisierenden, im Rahmen des nationalen Territoriums agierenden Wohlfahrtstaates werden die Creative Industries zum bevorzugten Terrain stadtpolitischer Initiativen. Inzwischen hat jede Stadt Programme zur Förderung der Creative Industries. Dabei reagieren städtische Administrationen zunächst positiv auf Bottom-up-Dynamiken, um diese dann in die Stadtpolitik zu integrieren. So tritt an die Stelle der Förderung des Baus von Schulen, öffentlichen Bibliotheken und Schwimmbädern oder sozialen Wohnungsbaus der Ausbau von Lofts in altindustriellen Arealen, um Arbeitsbedingungen für Kreative bereitzustellen. Unter diesen Voraussetzungen erfahren Partizipation und selbstinitiierte Projekte auf der Grundlage persönlichen unternehmerischen Engagements, die gleichwohl von einem kritischen Impetus geprägt sind, eine Umwertung: Urbanismus durch individuelle Projekte prägt zunehmend das urbane Umfeld und wird dominierend gegenüber den Überbleibseln normativer und hierarchischer Planungsstrategien. {03} Im Diskurs um eine neue Planungskultur ist schon seit einiger Zeit von einem Paradigmenwechsel die Rede: von der Dominanz des Planungsraumes der PlanerInnen und ArchitektInnen hin zum Lebensraum der BewohnerInnen. Es handelt sich – wie es in ARCH + diskutiert wurde – um eine Raumproduktion zweiter Ordnung, die hier ins Blickfeld gerät. Raum in diesem Zusammenhang

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03 Siehe Beitrag Jesko Fezer, „Design for a Post-Neoliberal-City“: www.e-flux.com/journal/designfor-a-post-neoliberal-city/

meint nicht mehr den zu organisierenden und zu strukturierenden Raum der PlanerInnen, sondern Raum, wie er alltäglich hergestellt und von seinen BewohnerInnen interpretiert wird. {04} Dieser Wechsel wird dabei im Kontext der Deregulierung städtischer Verhältnisse gelesen – der Privatisierung städtischer Leistungen und Angebote, eines neuen Modells der „urban governance“, das eine Selbstaktivierung der BewohnerInnen einfordert. Raumpioniere und urban catalysts werden als „Figuren“ dieses neuen Regimes städtischer Regulation beschrieben. Gerade ArchitektInnen, KünstlerInnen und DesignerInnen scheinen mit ihren Vorstellungen von Eigeninitiative, Autonomie und Wahlfreiheit in gewisser Weise für eine solche unternehmerische Praxis programmiert zu sein. {05} Unter dem Stichwort „situativer Urbanismus“ diskutierte die Zeitschrift ARCH + die Vielfalt räumlicher Praktiken im Zuge des Rückzugs des Wohlfahrtsstaates und verwies auf die Ambivalenz zwischen den enormen Potenzialen, die aus der veränderten Einstellung auf den Nahbereich des Städtischen, seine Komplexität und Vielfalt erwachsen, und den damit zugleich verbundenen Prozessen der Marginalisierung und Exklusion. Dieser Form von Urbanismus liegt allerdings ein Stadtverständnis zugrunde, das dem Raum des Alltags, der alltäglichen Nutzung durch seine BewohnerInnen, dem Temporären, Situativen eine Gleichberechtigung gegenüber dem Gebauten einräumt. Dabei wird Informalität zu einer zentralen Ressource der unternehmerischen Stadt, ohne nach den oft prekären Arbeits- und Existenzbedingungen zu fragen, die dieser Handlungstyp zur Voraussetzung hat. Vor dem Hintergrund solch ambivalenter Konstellationen drängt sich die Frage auf: Wie weit birgt die Anrufung des Alltags, des Spontanen, des Ungeplanten im Kontext urbaner Entwicklungen überhaupt noch kritisches Potenzial?

Im Namen des Alltags – Kritisch oder affirmativ? Bereits in den 1950er- und 1960er-Jahren nahmen KünstlerInnen und ArchitektInnen die gelebte Stadt, den Alltag, den Raum des „common man“ zum Ausgangspunkt einer kritischen Revision des modernen Urbanismus. Es war die entfremdete kapitalistische, bürokratisch organisierte und durch die Moderne homogenisierte Stadt, die Bewegungen wie die Situationistische Internationale in Paris oder das erwachende Interesse für vernakuläre Architekturen oder die alltäglichen Wohn- und Nachbarschaftspraxen der StadtbewohnerInnen zum Hintergrund hatte. Was beide Bewegungen einte, war ein Neudenken der Disziplinen: ein anderes Verständnis von Architektur und Urban Design, das aus der produktiven Kollaboration zwischen ArchitektInnen und KünstlerInnen entstanden war. 04

Nikolaus Kuhnert, Anh Linh Ngo, Martin Luce mit Carolin Kleist, „Situativer Urbanismus“, in: ARCH + 183, Mai 2007, S. 19.

Nikolaus Kuhnert, Susanne Schindler, „Off-Architektur“, in: ARCH + 166, Oktober 2003, S. 14.

06 Tom McDonough, „Situationistischer Raum“, in: ARCH + 183, Mai 2007, S. 56f.

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1) Situationistische Internationale The Naked City besteht aus 19 mit schwarzer Tinte gedruckten Ausschnitten aus einem Pariser Stadtplan, die mit roten Richtungspfeilen verbunden sind. Dieser Stadtplan soll eine „Illustration der Hypothese von Drehscheiben in der Psychogeografie“ sein. Mit dem Begriff der Drehscheibe wird Bezug auf die beweglichen Plattformen für Lokomotiven genommen, die roten Pfeile sollen demgegenüber spontane Richtungsänderungen des Subjekts darstellen. {06}

Feldversuche in bewegter Stadt

Die Anleihen an die Collagetechniken nehmende Karte ist als eine Analogie für die Funktion des Stadtplans zu verstehen, basiert sie doch auf der Fragmentierung des Plan de Paris. Naked City ist selbst Repräsentationskritik, indem sie die mit dem Format des Pariser Stadtplanes verbundene Illusion einer totalen Zurschaustellung des Objekts Stadt einer Kritik unterzieht. Während ein solch omnipräsenter Ausdruck die Behauptung der Erkenntnis und Darstellung der Ordnung der Stadt zur Voraussetzung hat, entwirft Naked City ein Bewegungsmodell raumerkundender Aktionen, die als „dérive“ bezeichnet wurden. Statt Stadt aus dem totalisierenden Blickwinkel zu zeigen, organisieren „dérives“ Bewegungen auf metaphysische Weise um psychogeografische Zentren herum. Bewegungen konstituieren Erzählungen, die im Gegensatz zur falschen Zeitlosigkeit des Plans ganz und gar diachronisch sind. {07} Guy Debord unterzieht mit The Naked City die Mechanismen der Repräsentation der Stadt im Stadtplan einer radikalen Kritik: Der Stadtplan folge der Logik der Reduktion der Stadt auf eine sicht- und lesbare Sphäre, er stehe für einen abstrakten Raum, in dem die Konflikte, die der kapitalistische Raum produziert, homogenisiert seien. Die hier artikulierte Kritik an der traditionellen Geografie, die Raum lediglich als Container begreift und als solchen auch zur Darstellung bringt, zielt darauf ab, städtischen Raum als Resultat der sozialen Praxis zu verstehen, als einen durch soziale Gruppen realisierten Prozess des Bewohnens. Debord entwirft Stadt dabei als Summe der Möglichkeiten gegen den abstrakten Raum der Karten. {08} Insofern nahmen Debord und die SituationistInnen die aus ihrer Sicht totalitären Kontrollräume der städtebaulichen Moderne, die einen Verlust historischer narrativer Räume zur Voraussetzung hatte, und die Kapitalisierung der Stadt zum Gegenstand einer radikalen Kritik: Kämpfe um Territorien und Räume in der Stadt waren vor allem Kämpfe um soziale Möglichkeiten individueller Raumaneignung. Schlüsselkategorie ihres Ansatzes war die Situation vor Ort, zu der es eine veränderte Beziehung zu gewinnen galt. Mit der Orientierung auf Situationen des Alltags, also die performativen Aspekte der Stadt verlagern die SituationistInnen die Bedeutungsebene der Stadt vom Objekt des Gebauten zur Handlung in der Stadt. Die Stadt würde nicht mehr definiert als Ort, in dem Waren und Objekte zirkulieren, sondern bildet sich aus Räumen, die für die Passage von Zeit existieren. An die Stelle physischer Interventionen setzten die Situationisten das „dérive“ als eine Strategie der Untersuchung und Erfindung: „the terrain of experience for the social space of the cities of the future“ {09}. Insofern konnte es per se keine „situationistische Architektur“ geben, sondern nur eine „situationistische Praxis“ von Architektur. Die Beziehungen zwischen den SituationistInnen und Henri Lefebvre waren komplex und von Konflikten geprägt, gleichwohl seine Schriften von diesen rezipiert worden sind. Lefebvres theoretische Auseinandersetzungen mit der Produktion des Raumes in der kapitalistischen Gesellschaft, seine These von der Bewegung vom sozialen konkreten Raum zum abstrakten Raum, dem „freien Raum der Ware“, finden sich in Debords Schriften wieder. Vergleichbare theoretische Modelle hat Michel de Certeau in seiner Gegenüberstellung zwischen „Konzept Stadt“ und „Tatsache Stadt“ entwickelt. In seinem kanonischen Text Walking the City stellt er dem totalisierenden Blick aus dem 110. Stockwerk des World Trade Centers in New York die Fußgängerperspektive des Wanderers durch Straßen der Metropole entgegen. Das „Konzept Stadt“ sei dabei der eigentliche Held der Moderne. {10} Was diese Ansätze eint, ist, dass Stadt dabei lediglich als Objekt betrachtet

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07 Louis Marin, Utopics. Spatial Play. Aus dem Französischen von Robert A. Vollrath, N.J., 1984, S. 201. 08 Ebd. 09

Zitiert nach Panu Lehtuvuori, Experience and Conflict. Helsinki, 2005, S. 49.

Siehe auch Mary McLeod, “Henry Lefebvre`s Critique of Everyday Life: An Introduction”. In: Steven Harris/ Deborah Berke (Hrsg.), Architecture of the Everyday, New York, 1997, S. 9–30.

wurde, das untersucht, kategorisiert, neu strukturiert und geordnet werden konnte. Demgegenüber sei die Tatsache Stadt, die Stadt als Wissenssubjekt mit jeweils eigenen Wissens- und Erfahrungsbeständen, die aus alltäglicher sozialräumlicher Praxis entstehen, erst noch zu untersuchen und zu konzeptionalisieren. {11} Die Situationistische Internationale und die mit ihr assoziierten theoretischen Diskurse stehen in Zusammenhang mit einem generellen Umbruch in internationalen Stadtdebatten: weg von dem Dogma der funktionalen Stadt hin zum „common man“, zu seinen Wohngewohnheiten und alltäglichen Praxen. {12}

Michel de Certeau, The Practice of Everyday Life, Berkely/Los Angeles, 1988, S. 93.

Siehe hier u. a. die Debatten innerhalb der britischen MARS-Gruppe in den 1940er-Jahren in den CIAM: Eric Mumford, The CIAM Discourse on Urbanism 1928–1960, Cambridge, 2000, S. 170.

Tom Avermaete, „Nomadic Experts and Travelling Perspectives: Colonial Modernity and the epistemological shift in Modern Architecture Culture“, in: Marion von Osten, Serhat Karakayali, Tom Avermaete (Hrsg.), Colonial Mod ern. Aesthetics of the Past Rebellions for the Future. London, 2010, S. 133f.

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2) Architecture without architects Die Präsentation des Habitat for the Greatest Number und des Bidonville Mahieddine Grid in Aix-en-Provence 1953 initiierte einen epistemologischen Shift in den Debatten des CIAM (Internationale Kongresse Moderner Architektur). Mit den Darstellungen der Bidonvilles, informellen Siedlungen und deren Wohnkulturen in Marokko wurde in den Architekturdiskurs ein Verständnis von Architektur als sozialräumliches Konstrukt und der gebauten Umwelt als Rahmen für sozialräumliche Praktiken eingeführt. Team X formulierte mit den beiden „Grids“ nicht nur eine Kritik an den bisherigen, die CIAM dominierenden Repräsentationsregimes, unter denen die Stadt entlang festgelegter Kriterien analysiert und dargestellt wurde, sondern sie gehörten zu den Pionieren einer Bewegung, die in den späten 1950er-Jahren begonnen hatten, im Namen des einfachen, des „ordinary man on the street“ zu sprechen. Das „Urban Reidentification Grid“ der Smithsons lässt sich insofern auch als Programm einer jüngeren ArchitektInnengeneration lesen, die dazu auffordert, dass sich ArchitektInnen von einer auf Zonierung basierenden Stadtplanung verabschieden und sich endlich um die „anthropological values embodied by the streets“ kümmern sollen. „From the late 1950ies onwards architects start to speak in the name of the people and criticised modern architecture for its paternalistic, bureaucratic and anti-democratic character.“ {13} Dieser epistemologische Umbruch war eingebunden in ein breiteres theoretisches Interesse für anthropologische und ethnologische Studien zur Wohn- und Bautradition lokaler Kulturen. In Veröffentlichungen wie Native Genius in Anonymous Architecture von Sibyl Moholy-Nagy und Bernhard Rudofskys Ausstellung und Publikation Architecture Without Architects 1964 im MOMA, New York, artikulierte sich die Faszination einer ganzen Generation von ArchitektInnen für Faktoren wie Kultur, Lokalität, Alltag: Themen, die bisher innerhalb der modernen Bewegung kaum eine Rolle gespielt hatten. Das wachsende Interesse des Architekten Bernhard Rudofsky am spontanen Bauen hatte eine polemische Attacke gegen den Status moderner Architektur zum Hintergrund, die nicht nur ihre eigenen Wurzeln in der vernakulären Architektur des Mediterranen, die für die Formulierung der Moderne von zentraler Bedeutung war, verleugnete, sondern auch zu einer „narrow world of official and commercial architecture“ geworden war. Vor dem Hintergrund dieser Kritik an der sichtbaren Homogenisierung wird vernakuläre Architektur als Gegenentwurf, als Ausdruck der Suche nach Alternativen begriffen. Zugleich schreibt sich diese Nostalgie nach einer „integrated totality“ auch als kontinuierliche Figur im modernen Architekturdiskurs fort. Rudofsky trug mit seinen Arbeiten zu einer Neuentdeckung der Spontaneität im Architektur- und Stadtdiskurs bei. Zugleich entwickelte sich sein Interesse an nomadischen Praktiken in einem geistig kulturellen Klima, wo Modellen des temporären, mobilen Wohnens neue Aufmerksamkeit

Feldversuche in bewegter Stadt

zukam. ArchitektInnen begannen, ihre disziplinären Ansätze und Formulierungen zum „Territorium“ neu zu denken. Felicity Scott schlägt in ihrer Analyse der Ausstellung Architecture without Architects deshalb vor, diese eher allegorisch zu verstehen: Es ginge nicht um Rückkehr zum Vernakulären, sondern darum, mit der Frage des Nomadischen auch Themen der Entwurzelung des modernen Subjekts aufzugreifen. Sie verbindet mit Rudofskys Faszination für Camps, Trailerhomes oder Zelte ein generelles Interesse am subversiven Potenzial der NomadInnen, die mit ihren Praktiken der zeitweisen Besetzung und Nutzung von Raum alternative Raumnutzungen jenseits des Besitzens vorschlagen. {14} 3) „Antihegemonialer Urbanismus“? Die hier nur ausschnitthaft diskutierten Positionen waren als Kritik an dem dominanten Modell eines paternalistischen, abstrakten und bürokratischen Charakters der modernen Architektur und Stadtplanung entwickelt worden. Sie initiierten ein Neudenken des Verständnisses von Stadt sowie der daran wesentlich beteiligten Disziplinen, das oft innovative und fruchtbare Allianzen zwischen ArchitektInnen, PlanerInnen, EthnologInnen, SoziologInnen und KünstlerInnen zum Hintergrund hatte. Es ging dabei auch um die Reformulierung der disziplinären Positionen zu und in der Stadt. Dabei reichte das Spektrum der Kritik von Auseinandersetzungen mit den Modi der Darstellung wie bei Debords Naked City oder dem GAMMA Grid der Smithsons zu theoretischen Konzeptionen von Stadt und Raum, von vollkommener Verweigerung des Gebauten und Geplanten bis hin zur Übersetzung dieser Konzepte in gebaute Architektur. In gegenwärtigen, crossdisziplinären Projekten ist vielfach ein Rückgriff auf diese Ansätze in den Architektur- und Stadtdebatten der 1950er- und 1960er-Jahre zu beobachten. Die Aktualisierung dieser historischen Überlegungen steht im Kontext der Suche nach Reformulierung einer kritisch engagierten Praxis mittels der eigenen Disziplin vor dem Hintergrund neoliberaler Stadtentwicklung. Auch die Figur des/der Urban Practitioner könnte hier einen historischen Referenzpunkt finden, als eine antihegemoniale Figur, die bewusst neutral in Bezug auf disziplinäre Zugehörigkeit, auf Wissenssorten und Wissenshierarchien verstanden wird. So gehörte es zu den unhinterfragten Konditionen der Moderne, dass Urban Designers und ArchitektInnen als DienstleisterInnen im Auftrag einer Behörde oder Institution, für Unternehmens oder DeveloperInnen agierten und dabei die Industrie und den Markt bedienten – eine Kondition, die sich vor dem Hintergrund des neoliberalen Urbanismus noch zugespitzt hat. Es sind zwei Aspekte, die hier in Referenz auf die urbanen, aktionistischen Projekte der 1960er-Jahre für die Neubestimmung urbaner Gestaltung und Entwicklung im Spannungsfeld zwischen geplant und ungeplant abschließend diskutiert werden sollen. Zum Ersten: Es gehört zur Legacy der Moderne, dass insbesondere ArchitektInnen und PlanerInnen ein professionelles Selbstverständnis ausgebildet haben, in dem die Lösung von Problemen der menschlichen Lebensumwelt eine Vorrangstellung einnimmt. In Konzepte wie Expertise, Masterplan, Manifest und Autorenschaft sind Handlungsmodelle eingeschrieben, die oft mit der Komplexität der zu gestaltenden Realität in Kontrast stehen. Problemlösung ist mit einem Planungsverständnis assoziiert, das die Fähigkeit zur Ordnung und Kontrolle der unübersichtlichen städtischen Verhältnisse im Sinne der „concept city“ behauptet. Demgegenüber verstehen sich engagierte

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14 Felicity Scott, Bernhard Rudofsky, „Allegories of Nomadism and Dwelling“, in: Sarah William Goldhagen, Rejean Legault (Hrsg.), Anxious Modernism. Ex perimentation in Postwar Architectural Culture, Cambridge: MIT Press, 2002.

und kritische ArchitektInnen und PlanerInnen heute eher als „KuratorInnen“, als MittlerInnen, die unterschiedliche Wissenssorten auffinden, zusammentragen, rekombinieren, in einen anderen Kontext stellen und auf diese Weise zu neuen Lesarten und Perspektiven in der Stadt kommen. Projekte wie die Prinzessinnengärten in Berlin oder die Eco Box des Büros aaa (atélier d’architecture autogérée) in Paris geben Hinweise auf eine andere Praxis: Sie arbeiten mit integrativen Ansätzen und operieren eher in einem Feld des permanenten „trial and error“, wo Lernprozesse initiiert und neue Akteu rInnenkonstellationen getestet werden können. Gestalterische Praxis prägt sich insofern als ein Verfahren aus, in dem „immer neue Verhältnisse zum Wissen erprobt werden“. {15} Dabei geht es weniger um Problemlösung als um Problemidentifizierung, also darum, überhaupt erst herauszufinden, worin die eigentlich gestalterische Aufgabenstellung besteht. Die Research-Orientierung vieler aktueller Architektur- und Urbanismusprogramme folgt diesem Trend. Die entwickelten Ansätze verstehen sich nicht als Lösungsvorschläge im Sinne eines Masterplanes. Vielmehr wird Gestaltung als kollektiver Handlungsmodus begriffen, an dem viele AkteurInnen mit unterschiedlichen Expertisen und Wissenssorten beteiligt sind. Damit werden auch bestehende Wissenshierarchien, in die Architektur und Design eingeordnet sind, kritisch hinterfragt. Die Urban Practitioners sind weniger ExpertInnen, ausgestattet mit spezifischem Wissen, sondern MediatorInnen oder ModeratorInnen zwischen verschiedenen disziplinären Hintergründen.

Peter Friedrich Stephan, „Wissen und Nicht-Wissen im Entwurf“, in: Claudia Mareis, Gesche Joost, Kora Kimpel, Entwerfen Wissen Produzieren. Bielefeld, 2010, S. 86.

16 Jesko Fezer, Matthias Heyden. „Das Versprechen des Situativen“. In: ARCH + 183, Mai 2007, S. 92–95. 17

Siehe Anmerkung 3.

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Zum Zweiten: Im Gegensatz zu künstlerischer Praxis, in deren Selbstverständnis die kritische Reflexion der eigenen Bedingungen der Produktion, Repräsentation und Verwertung essenzieller Bestandteil ist, haben Architektur und Design ihre Produktions- und Distributionsbedingungen bisher kaum hinterfragt. So stellen Auseinandersetzungen mit Darstellungstechniken – wie dem hegemonialen Wissen des Plans, der Karte oder der architektonischen Visualisierungen (wie bei Naked City oder dem CIAM Grid) – als Kritik an den eigenen Displays nicht unbedingt eine konstitutive Voraussetzung für eine urbanen Gestaltungspraxis dar. Das schließt auch Fragen der institutionellen Rahmung ein: Erst in jüngster Zeit beginnen ArchitektInnen und GestalterInnen eigene Institutionen und Formen der Kommunikation zu generieren bzw. bestehende institutionelle Praktiken zu reflektieren. Hier bilden sich Ansätze einer einem „antihegemonialen und pluralistischen Urbanismus“ {16} verpflichteten kritischen Design- und Architekturpraxis aus einem besonderen Handlungstyp, dessen innovatives Potenzial in alternativen Darstellungen sowie kooperativen Projekten besteht und in dem komplexe Mechanismen, Zusammenhänge, Kräftekonstellationen zusammenwirken. In diesem Prozess entfaltet sich eine oft ungeplante Komplexität von Wissenssorten, AkteurInnen, Beziehungen und Räumen. Es geht dabei um den Wiedergewinn eines Handlungsmodus („mode of agency“) in der bewegten Stadt, einer Stadt, die als „nicht planbar“ begriffen wird – ob nun in der Version der Metropole des globalen Südens oder der westlichen neoliberalen Stadt: {17} Entgegen der Entpolitisierung, die die Rhetorik des unplanned als von den Dynamiken des globalen Marktes getriebenen Urbanisierung begleitet, zielt hier das un planned auf eine progressive Praxis des Intervenierens in wechselnden Konstellationen, AkteurInnennetzwerken und räumlichen Situationen. Hier ist der/die Urban Practitioner situiert: eine Figur, die in unterschiedlichen Maßstäben und Rollen zu einem emanzipatorischen Verständnis des un planned beiträgt, das sich der Zugänglichkeit und Teilhabe an der bewegten Stadt verpflichtet.

Feldversuche in bewegter Stadt—Regina Bittner

THE CURATORIAL CONSTELLATION, DURATIONAL PUBLIC ART, COHABITATIONAL TIME, AND ATTENTIVENESS [ Paul O’Neill ] “As a constellation, theoretical thought circles the concept it would like to unseal, hoping that it will fly open like the lock of a well-guarded safe-deposit box: in response, not to a single key or a single number, but to a combination of numbers.” Theodor W. Adorno, Negative Dialectics {01} In this essay, I will attempt to bridge current discussions around curatorship, public art and urban practice. I will do this by first exploring recent concepts of ‘the curatorial’ and the ways in which they encompass certain ideas about durationally specific practice in conjunction with exhibition curating. Secondly, I will briefly draw upon some ideas from a number of longer-term, social and embedded approaches to public art, which have emerged as responses to specific locations in a bid to engage multiple communities—as a critique of the shorter-term, peripatetic projects that have been so prevalent over the past twenty years or so. Thirdly, I will consider the ways in which the idea of ‘cohabitational time’ is a key attribute within these multifaceted projects, as the means through which the curatorial and durational praxis can be brought closer together. And finally, I will draw upon Alois Riegl’s concept of ‘attentiveness’, as set out in his 1902 essay on Dutch group portraiture, as a way of positing our current condition as post-participatory. In this concept, the borders between the author-producer and the participant-receiver of public art are no longer so clearly attributed. Instead, the end work is produced by fields of interaction between multiple actors and agencies within durationally specific public art praxis.

The Curatorial as Constellation

Theodor W. Adorno, Negative Dialectics, New York and London: Continuum, 2007, p. 163.

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While the open-endedness of recent discussions around the curatorial is undoubtedly somewhat frustrating at times, this very frustration is, perhaps, the objective. Certain articulations of the curatorial have identified a strand of practice that seeks to resist categorical resolution, preferring to function in the Adornian sense, as a constellation of activities that do not wish to fully reveal themselves. Instead of conforming to the logic of inside and outside (in terms of the distribution of labor), a constellation of activities exists in which the exhibition (whichever form it takes) can be one of many component parts. Rather than forcing syntheses, this idea of a constellation (as an always-emergent praxis) brings together incommensurable social objects, ideas and subject relations in order to demonstrate the structural faults and falsities inherent in the notion of the hermetic exhibition as primary curatorial work. This is evident from the briefest of glances at a number of recent attempts at describing the curatorial. For example, Irit Rogoff articulates the curatorial as critical thought that does not rush to embody itself, instead

The Curatorial Constellation—Paul O’Neill

02 See Irit Rogoff, ‘Smuggling— A Curatorial Model’ in Vanessa Joan Müller and Nicolaus Schafhausen (eds.), Under Construction: Perspectives on Institutional Practice, Cologne: Walther König, 2006, pp. 132–133; Maria Lind, ‘The Curatorial’ in: Artforum, October 2009, pp. 103–105; Beatrice von Bismarck, ‘Curatorial Criticality: On the Role of Freelance Curators in the Field of Contemporary Art’ in Marianne Eigenheer (ed.), Curating Critique, Frankfurt, Revolver, 2007, pp. 62–69; and Emily Pethick, ‘The Dog that Barked at the Elephant in the Room’ in: The Exhibitionist, issue 4, pp. 81–82. 03

The Exhibitionist formalized the term ‘paracuratorial’ in issue 4 (June 2011) and invited three writers— Vanessa Joan Müller, Lívia Páldi and Emily Pethick—to elaborate on its implications for curatorial practice. See also Paul O’Neill, ‘The Curatorial Constellation and the Paracuratorial Paradox’ in: The Exhibitionist, issue 6 (June 2012), pp. 55–60.

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raising questions that are to be unraveled over time; Maria Lind’s notion of the curatorial involves practicing forms of political agency that try to go beyond the already known; Beatrice von Bismark’s understanding of the curatorial is as a continuous space of negotiation, contributing to other processes of becoming; and Emily Pethick’s proposition of the curatorial presupposes an unbounded framework, allowing for things, ideas and outcomes to emerge in the process of being realized. {02} Illustrative of the contested territory around the expanded field of curatorship, these definitions cannot be reduced to a set of positions that exist in opposition to exhibition-making; rather, they support forms of research-based, dialogical practice in which the processual and the serendipitous overlap with speculative actions and open-ended forms of production. The propositions articulated above consider the curatorial as an interlinked range of concepts, uniting unique forms of practice under a single rubric without pretending to gain exhaustive insight into them. This brings divergent forms of curatorial practice together to self-consciously catalyze each other, while not shying away from the negative, the contradictory or the antithetical. I would argue that the curatorial—as an open concept—prioritizes the many ways and means of working with others, within a temporary space of cooperation, which allows ideas to emerge in the process of doing, speaking and being together. In this sense, the discursive aspect of curatorial work is given parity with—rather than being perceived as contingent upon—the main event of staging gallery-based art exhibitions. The curatorial, conceived of as a constellation, resists the stasis of the artist-curator-spectator triumvirate and supports more semi-autonomous and self-determined aesthetic and discursive forms of practice that may overlap and intersect, rather than seeking a dialectic (image) or oppositional presentation (form). It is not about being either for or against exhibitions. As a constellation, discursively led curatorial praxis does not exclude the exhibition as one of its many productive forms. Rather than being either in opposition to one another or integrated, all of these practices propose a more juxtaposed field of signification, form, content and critique. In this sense, the constellation is an ever-shifting and dynamic cluster of changing elements that are always resisting reduction to a single common denominator. By preserving irreconcilable differences, such praxis retains a tension between the universal and the particular, between essentialism and nominalism. The preservation, or enabling, of these differences is also evident within durational approaches to public art, in which there is a constellation of intersecting ideas and moments of production, with many actors, advisory roles, publics and agencies at work, leading to such a multiplicity of praxis that it makes such projects impossible to grasp in their entirety. Paracuratorial practices are part of this constellation, but they could also be considered types of practice which respond to certain restrictive conditions of production. {03} The work of exhibition-making exists not only to legitimize the paracuratorial work taking place alongside it; rather, processes are set in motion in relation to other actions and events within the curatorial. As such, paracuratorial work attaches itself to, intervenes in, or rubs up against these conditions. Such projects might occur at the points at which the main event is critiqued from within, or when the restrictive scenarios, into which art and curatorial labor are forced, are sidestepped in some way. They employ a host-and-uninvited-guest tactic of coordination and invention, enabling parasitic curatorial labor to exist alongside, or in confrontation with, pre-existing

The Curatorial Constellation

cultural forms, originating scenarios, or prescribed exhibition contexts. Because of the evasiveness outlined above, there are a number of key issues with discursive, duration-specific practice, such as: What happens to art when its primary objective is not to engage with people and places under nomadic conditions, such as biennial curatorship, but instead gathers its audiences over a longer period than an exhibition-event? What happens when the primary outcome of a durational project is a more dispersed form of mediation, and when the artwork, the authorial voice and the exhibition site are not easy to locate—in other words, when the project does not result in single autonomous works/exhibitions to be viewed as one-off experiences? Does the artwork’s objecthood completely disappear into processes of operation, interventionist procedures and ‘hard to find’ participatory moments? What happens when public participation is a negotiated space of co-production within multiple networked flows of social encounters? These are just a few of the many questions that processual and cooperative praxes raise. In light of the above, the cooperative and the processual are difficult to contain or represent. As forms of socially networked projects, they are associated with contextual, durational and dialogical procedures rather than prioritizing material outcomes. Looking back over the past twenty years, for example, we find many terms that have been inscribed upon these practices, such as: ‘conversational art’ (Homi Bhabha), ‘dialogical aesthetics’ (Grant Kester), ‘new genre public art’ (Suzanne Lacy), ‘new situationism’ (Claire Doherty), ‘connective aesthetics’ (Suzi Gablik), ‘participatory art’ (Claire Bishop) and ‘collective creativity’ (WHW). Equally, ‘the educational turn’ in contemporary art and curating (Paul O’Neill and Mick Wilson) and the emergence of an art of ‘social cooperation’ (Tom Finkelpearl) have, in different ways, attempted to encapsulate the social and processual qualities inherent in more immaterial forms of both curatorial and artistic co-production, predominantly experienced beyond the art institutional setting or the traditional gallery frame. To this long list, I wish to add the term ‘durationspecific’ art as a divergent model of practice, in which public time, rather than public space, is the priority.

Durational Public Art and Cohabitational Time In order to move beyond the ontological notion of a reflexive subject—in which moving from passive to active participant in art is equally difficult to quantify—contemplation is needed on the issue of time. More specifically, how public time is framed in order that a space of co-production can emerge. This is what Bruno Latour refers to as the need for more ‘cohabitational time, the great Complicator’, with democratic space being understood as time spent together, publicly, in contradiction with each other. If we are to think of participation as more than a closed, one-off, relational or social interaction with art, it must take account of duration as a temporal process of cohabitation, in which time can contribute to something that is immeasurable, unquantifiable and unknowable from the outset. In this sense, art and its participation can only be experienced durationally, as lived difference. Durationally specific praxis accounts for the transitory attribute of time as a means of structuring the fluctuating encounter with art from its attributed place in ‘public space’ to the production of ‘time-places’. In this necessary shift, time is always experienced as hybrid, fluctuating and becoming. The

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For an introductory analysis on Bergsonisms, see Suzanne Guerlac, Thinking in Time: An Introduction to Henri Bergson, New York: Cornell University, 2006, pp. 1–13.

See Dave Beech, ‘The ideology of Duration in the Dematerialised Monument’ in: Paul O’Neill and Claire Doherty (eds.), Locating the Producers: Durational Approaches to Public Art, Amsterdam, Valiz, 2011, pp. 313–326.

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temporality of practice is neither fixed nor clearly bounded to a single location. It is dispersed across time, beyond the duration of the moment when the curator-producer or artist is embedded in place. Duration is more than the length of time that something continues. It has its own extrinsic values, such as mobility, agency, change or affect. {04} Duration can also involve a process of being together, for a period of time, with some common objectives, often as a means to constitute a new mode of relational, conversational and participatory practice. There tends to be a multiplicity of modes of interaction between people. Duration also has a destabilizing effect because there is no longer a fixed time and place in which to experience, or participate in, the art as event. This is most evident in the fact that a number of people contributing to durational projects are often unaware exactly what they are taking part in and what the outcome is intended to be; their participation—what has been done, who took part and what was achieved—is not something that can be measured or evaluated in a clear way. This is not to say that duration as long-termism is the a priori solution for progressive public art, but rather that duration aims to problematize the time component of art’s engagement with publics. As Dave Beech indicates in his critique of durationalism, ‘Duration is problematic because it is presented as a solution for art’s social contradictions, whereas the only viable political solution must be to problematise time for art’. {05} Duration cannot, therefore, become the default that is employed as a solve-all solution. Rather, as will be explored in greater depth below, durationality is characterized by a degree of attentiveness to the outside world, as much as to the dynamics of those individuals involved. Durationally specific public art allows for something to emerge over time, as part of its productive process. It is more than a psychological experience—a transitory state of becoming—it is also the concrete evolution of creativity, a state of being together within time, which surpasses itself in a manner that makes duration the very material of cooperative creative action. Durationally specific public art could be seen as embracing more social and cooperative forms of artistic co-production for specific sites, situations or environments, allowing things to unfold over time through various modes of both local and dispersed forms of participation. This approach is found in a range of practices in which multiple participants are involved as co-creators, such as projects by Tania Bruguera, Pablo Helguera, Jeanne van Heeswijk, Harrell Fletcher, CAMP, Temporary Services, Oda Projesi, Annette Krauss, Skart, Ultra-Red, Hiwa K, Can Altay, MyVillages.org, Park Fiction or certain projects by art and architecture groups such as MUF or transparadiso. The function of the curatorial proposition is to create situations of potential agency for the co-productive processes initiated by the artist, or curator, as post-autonomous producer. An understanding of the curatorial as an accumulation of interactions is put forward, with the work of art configured as a cluster of interventions gathered together over time, to result in more dispersed forms of distribution. More specifically, durational public art praxis proposes affect as a continuous, open-ended process. This involves taking a holistic, multidimensional approach to designated situations, maximizing resources—material, human and economic—using local distinctiveness as a starting point for a vision of the future, engaging professionals to work outside their normal sphere of practice and sharing an awareness of symbolic value. Rather than being overly predetermined, duration-specific projects account for the unplanned as a means of setting

The Curatorial Constellation

things in motion, allowing for ideas to emerge while doing time together. In many of these practices, the moment of publicness is never fully revealed. In various ways, these projects show how the publicness of public art and its curatorship must recognize the significance of engaging audiences and encouraging research-based outcomes that are responsive to their specific contexts, publics and locations over time. Significant in this respect are “The Blue House” (Het Blauwe Huis”), IJburg, the Netherlands (2004– 2009); “Beyond Leidsche Rijn”, the Netherlands (1999 – 2009); “Trekroner Art Plan”, Roskilde, Denmark (2001–present); “Grizedale Arts’ Creative Egremont”, Cumbria, UK (ongoing since 1999) and “The Serpentine Gallery’s Edgware Road Project”, London, UK (2009–2011). To this list can be added many ongoing projects such as Van Heeswijk’s “2 Up 2 Down”, Anfield, Liverpool; “The Food Thing”, initiated by artist, Mick Wilson, Dublin; “Slow Prototype”, initiated by curator Nuno Sacramento, at Scottish Sculpture Workshop; “In Certain Places”, Preston (since 2003) and “Our Day Will Come” (2011), a month-long free school project in Hobart, Tasmania. {06} Having already written extensive case studies on these projects as part of the publication Locating the Producers, there is no need to re-iterate them in depth here. {07} Instead, I will briefly outline Jeanne van Heeswijk’s project, “The Blue House”, so as to illustrate the ways in which such non-representational processes of communication and exchange can form the content and structure of the work of art as a kind of paracuratorial practice as outlined above. “The Blue House” began with Van Heeswijk sidestepping the original brief of a restrictive site-responsive public art commission, in order to instigate new fields of interaction. Situated in a newly built suburb of Amsterdam called IJburg, she collaborated with urbanist Dennis Kaspori and architect Hervé Paraponaris in arranging for a large villa in a housing block to be taken off the private market and re-designated as a space for reflection, artistic production and cultural activity. Over a four-year period from 2005 – 9, the Blue House Association of the Mind functioned as a changing group of local and international practitioners who took up residence for up to six months each, as part of an open-ended organizational structure. Invitees conducted research, produced works of art, films and publications and were involved in discussions and other activities. This resulted in numerous interventions being made by practitioners in and around “The Blue House”, which responded to the specifics of a place undergoing construction as part of an extensive urban renewal plan. Rather than producing artworks with intrinsic aesthetic values, “The Blue House” was a para-institutional model based on social relationality. The result was the culmination of associated responses to the local context and an organized network of willing participants who collectively contributed to the formation of the house and its related activities. Different levels of participation in the project highlighted the complexities of artistic co-production within the logic of succession, continuity and sustainability in a unitary time and place. The concept of participation in art as an artistic practice was constantly being formed and reformed out of extant social processes and political contestations.

Attentiveness as a Value of Duration

Our Day Will Come, co-curated by Fiona Lee and Paul O’Neill, was a month-long durational project. Housed in the central courtyard of the University of Tasmania, School of Art in Hobart, the project used a pedagogical framework not so much to educate, through a democratic substitute, but to facilitate a platform for generative discourse. This mode of production was entirely contingent upon the collaboration of others. Participants would sign up for the ‘school within a school’, which was physically located in a small 1950s portable council tea hut, strategically positioned in the courtyard at the entrance of the institution. Rather than being antagonistic, the odd relationship between the two schools created a symbiotic affiliation in which the big school fed off the little school and vice versa. A four-week iterative structure lent itself to the idea of a syllabus or curriculum which was delivered around asking its participant body a key question each week: What is a school? What is usefulness? What is autonomy? What is remoteness? The concept of Socratic dialog—based upon the asking and answering of questions—was a tactical move that aimed to drive cooperative production which included a series of school workshops, plays, a radio station, performances, events, four dinners, a disco and a conference in a nightclub. The project involved bringing together a core group of invested participants to work alongside nine international artists: Mick Wilson, Rhona Byrne, Annie Fletcher and Jem Noble, who came to Hobart, with Sarah Pierce, Garrett Phelan, Gareth Long, Liam Gillick and David Blamey delivering works remotely. The artists produced dialogical, performative and social works of art that did not so much seek to answer O’Neill’s questions as to set up the possibility for further engagement and discourse with the collaborating participants. Additionally, artists, writers and theorists from across the world gave further input remotely, which was disseminated through the production of a weekly ’zine that recorded the dialog around the week’s question. The project took place in the context of Itera tion: Again, curated by David Cross. See http://www.iterationagain.com

In 1902, the Viennese art historian Alois Riegl applied an understanding of attentiveness to the dynamics of sixteenth-century Dutch group portraiture,

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See Paul O’Neill and Claire Doherty (Eds.), Locating the Producers: Durational Approaches to Public Art, Amsterdam, Valiz, 2011.

which suggested that the individuals represented in, say, a painting by Frans Hals were as attentive to each other as they were to the viewer. For Riegl, a group portrait was ‘neither an expanded version of an individual portrait nor, so to speak, a mechanical collection of individual portraits in one picture or representational image: rather it [was] a representation of a free association of autonomous, independent individuals’. {08} According to Riegl, attentiveness inhibited other means of unification between the figures represented in a group portrait, ruling out the possibility that those being portrayed were restricted to a common action or emotion. Within this concept of attentiveness, Riegl highlighted that there are always two forms of coherence. Firstly, there is an ‘internal coherence’ between those being portrayed within the artwork, which preserves the qualities of likeness of each depicted subject. Secondly, there is an ‘external coherence’, which depends upon the individuals within the group being attentive to those around them. Beyond this, Riegl was able to demonstrate that, when internal coherence diminished, it could be compensated for by external coherence being augmented. In other words, a group portrait could be made to cohere by implicitly including the spectator—which, for Riegl, was partly achieved through the outward gaze of the figures depicted. In this sense, attentiveness is achieved through an equal consideration of the dynamics of compositional arrangement and the psychological exchanges within the group being portrayed. It is also achieved through narrative devices established within the picture, which provide links among the individuals in the portrait and between them and the viewer outside. The concept of attentiveness may be applied to durational public art, in which the latter can be understood as a type of contemporary group portrait where equal and simultaneous ‘attention’ is given by participants to each other, and to their immediate environment. Internal cohesion is achieved through mutual attentiveness between the protagonists within the group, and external coherence is encouraged in relation to their surroundings and the world outside the group. In this way, reciprocity may be created, through inter-relationships that are both internal and external to the group of participants, players, actors, performers, actions and spectators. In progressive duration-specific public art, the necessity of a practice of attentiveness proposes a multiplicity of identities that shift around while questioning how to contribute towards curatorial work as multiple self-image and socialized group portrait. Practitioners must simultaneously become hosts to and guests of each other, as much as playing their part within a semi-autonomous cooperative curatorial labor. Frames of social and human interaction are put in place, to enable the discursive and material production of art. The result can be a cumulative process of semi-public cooperation, whereby ideas of publicness, hospitality and citizenship offer both imaginative and tangible potential.

A PIECE OF EUROPE IN A WINTER GARDEN [ Valentin Diaconov ]

”The first thing you see is a winter garden, always green and fresh”. Ekaterinburg Museum of Fine Arts, entrance.

“An object of beauty, cast in cast iron forever”: Ekaterinburg Museum of Fine Arts, interior view.

In September 2012, I presented a project for the parallel programme of the 2nd Industrial Biennale of Contemporary Art in Ekaterinburg, Ural region, Russia. It was part guided tour of a museum, part performance and part polemics. The main site of this guided tour was the 1985 building of the local Museum of Fine Arts. This building was erected especially for the main artistic contribution of Ural’s grandiose industry to European culture—Kaslinsky Pavilion, a cast iron structure made to represent Ural’s factories at the Paris World Expo 1900. I chose this museum to address different issues surrounding the idea and position of a biennial in a region with a strong and somewhat harsh character, formed, like cast iron, during its 200 years of industrialization. A region that has always been on the forefront of technical modernity in Russia has chosen a confusingly eclectic and politically anecdotic piece of decorative architecture as its aesthetic heart. The story of the pavilion, interpretation of its elements and the analysis of what the museum building tries to represent have somehow melted into a mental image that I will do my best to describe. Ekaterinburg is unforgiving. That does not mean the city is suffering an economical downturn or spiraling deep down into poverty. On the contrary, it is one of the largest industrial and business hubs in Russia, a relatively cosmopolitan and thriving place. You can feel the money in its bones, you can see hundreds of floors growing higher on oil currency. Ekaterinburg is unforgiving, because it was invented that way in the 18th century. Contemporary architects tend to praise Ekaterinburg for its geometric plan, one of the earliest instances of rational and patterned urban space, built earlier than New York. It never in its life resembled anything close to New York, of course, because New York is opportunistic, it constructs itself out of private initiatives of various degrees of grandeur. Ekaterinburg was always imperial. It was also always industrial. Both words starting with “I” give the city an identity that is unshakeable, hard as cast iron—material that was the main

Alois Riegl, cited in Margaret Iverson’s Alois Riegl: Art History and Theory, Cambridge, MA, The MIT Press, 1993, p. 100.

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The Curatorial Constellation—Paul O’Neill

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A Piece of Europe in a Winter Garden—Valentin Diaconov

“Beauty that is not visual, but performative—local artists frequently use it as a prop, local beauty contests stage photoshoots for winners”: local painter Alexey Efremov poses with his landscape, 2010. Courtesy: Alexey Efremov

“A contamination of skill, pride and the absurd”. The Casly Cast Iron Pavilion with an Allegory of Russia.

import of Ekaterinburg both in Russia and worldwide. One tends to endure the city, not enjoy it, apart from some small friendly places one can have a drink to agreeable music. But endurance makes one stronger, pushes one to reassess one’s flaneur mentality formed by enjoyable cities, cities of leisure and sightseeing. There is, however, a nod to the flaneur in Ekaterinburg, and it is exactly the museum I chose to interpret and show at the Biennale. In the center of the city stands its main aesthetic masterpiece, a contamination of skill, pride and the absurd—the Kaslinsky pavilion. It is hosted in a 1985 building that on one hand reinforces the local identity, and on the other hand strives to present a European space of nature, culture and edutainment. It was built by the special art division of a cast iron factory in Kasli, Ekaterinburg region, to represent the local industry during the World Expo in Paris in 1900. The idea of producing cheap copies of famous works of European sculpture was first introduced to Ekaterinburg’s factories by intelligent enthusiasts at the beginning of the 19th century. Soon making sculptures became a tradition, albeit one that is not particularily economically feasible. Art workshops in the Kasli factory were always on the brink of closing, because the centralized economy of cast iron production saw this craft as a diversion from the real goals of industry—that is, making more cast iron. Anyway, in 1896 the art workshop produced the first cast iron pavilion for the Russian Expo in Ekaterinburg. It already had the element that played an important role in the destiny of the Paris pavilion— “Russia”, an allegoric sculpture by thr now-forgotten neoclassicist sculptor Nikolay Laveretsky. This embodiment of Russia’s image was standing somewhat removed from the pavilion itself. In Paris the Kaslinsky Pavilion was one of the minor sensations of the World Expo and received a silver medal in its category. A legend that is reproduced in every book about the pavilion says that France’s president at the time, Emile Loubot, wanted to buy the pavilion for museum display—cast

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iron being one of the “hot” materials in France’s development of Art Nouveau. Loubot wanted all of it, the legend says, the pavilion itself and the Russia allegory, but Ekaterinburg city representatives declined to sell the pavilion with the statue, allegedly because they thought they would be seen as traitors, receiving a fixed price for their Motherland. Selling the pavilion would have been fine; “Russia” had to go back to Russia. “Levsha”, a novel by 19th century writer Nikolay Leskov, tells us about a fictional master (Levsha) who is able to put tiny golden horseshoes on a flea. He is invited to Britain and is given a proposition to stay and work there. Levsha declines the offer, saying that Russian Orthodox faith is better and the holy books are thicker. Kaslinsky pavilion was made to impress Europe, but did not stay there even for a glorious amount of money. Lavretsky’s “Russia” is clearly influenced by images of Jeanne d’Arc—the same chain armor, the same martyr-like expression on her face. And still “Russia” can’t stay in France. She’s uncomfortable in Europe. She stands independent. Same thing with the pavilion itself: it was specifically made as an advertisement, it had success. The pavilion and the statue both went back to Ekaterinburg. Their fate was uneven. In the 1920s, after the Revolution, parts of the pavilion were melted. In the 1940s, during the outbreak of post-War state-controlled Russian nationalism, museum restorers started working on putting the pieces back together. In 1985 the city of Ekaterinburg opened a second building of its Museum of Fine Arts, built especially for the Kaslinsky pavilion. And since the 1980s it has been promoted as a distinctly local source of aesthetic enjoyment mixed with identity pride. What was temporary, became a staple. What was made for export, became a re-export cargo cult. Inside, this building is everything that Ekaterinburg is not. Architects (Anatoly Ptashnik, Oleg Selyanin et al) decided to reconstruct the feel of the Paris World Expo. Thus the pavilion stands alone in the center of a square of sorts. This square has real street lights on its walls. When you enter the

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building, the first thing you see is a winter garden, always green and fresh, something that looks very unusual for an art museum. But then, this building is not an art museum, it is a monument to an unlikely marriage of art (the sublime) to industry. Kaslinsky pavilion presents itself as the center of Ekaterinburg’s collective aesthetic consciousness. An object of beauty, cast in cast iron forever. The museum’s collections of European painting and Russian icons revolve around the open space for the pavilion. They are but margins, enclosed in dark halls. Art history is optional, the pavilion is real. The Kaslinsky pavilion as the center of Ekaterinburg’s aesthetic universe is surrounded by a semi-public space. You still have to pay for the ticket to look at the pavilion. Once inside, you delve into a wintergarden, then find yourself in a a somewhat functionalist replica of a Grand Palais wing. It is a comfortable place away from the prevalent weather, it’s surrounded by walls, unlike Ekaterinburg’s streets that tend to go on and on. The pavilion itself is not exactly a masterpiece. Its eclectic, Orientalist architecture is supplanted by replicas of works that were produced at the Kasli factory’s art workshop. Every kind of sculpture has the same rights in this cast iron advertisement. A garden gnome stands close to a copy of Gianbologna’s Mercury. “We, the factories, are powerful enough to copy every kind of object”, says the pavilion. “We do not know or want to know history and value and context—this is cast iron made copy flesh, a spirit of production that does not discriminate between the banal and the sublime”. The pavilion is not a thing of beauty, but it is a marker of Beauty that is equal to Identity, Beauty that is not visual, but performative—local artists frequently use it as a prop, local beauty contests stage photoshoots for winners. It is a place of pride and repose, a piece of Europe in a winter garden, a reminder of powers beyond the visual. This situation called for action in the context of Ekaterinburg’s industrial contemporary art biennal, a biennal that seeks to introduce new thinking about art in the fabric of Ekaterinburg’s pragmatic consciousness. The pride of Ekaterinburg’s industry, the Uralmash factory, gradually closed off production facilites during the 1990s and 2000s, 2013 saw the end of the last metallurgy workshop. Uralmash, like the Museum of Fine Arts, was a city within a city, now it’s sold by hundreds of square meters to advance capitalist investment. Many younger people of creative professions hoped that the Biennial would become a gentrification event, transforming the undecidedly post-industrial image of the city into something closer to a creative hub. Still, the biennal exploits the city’s identity to swing in a global event, one that is designed to showcase multiple identities and question the politics of identities as such. By bowing down to the region’s pride the Ural Industrial Biennial places itself in a bureaucratically comfortable place: it can explain itself to (mainly) conservative political agents. And simultaneously it makes its politics open to criticism, and my performance/guided tour to the museum that hosts the Kaslinsky pavilion is an example of inverse criticism. I show what’s already there, in the center of the city’s universe, in the gust of its cultural politics. An icon of cast iron endurance that means much more than it shows. This showing of what’s already in the canon and consciousness of every Ekaterinburg citizen serves two purposes. First, to highlight the situation of the Biennial, the place where it finds itself. It is a globalist event, a showcase of the city’s openness, and, ironically, an event that was promoted as a gateway to World Expo 2020, an honour the local administration has tried very hard to achieve. The Biennial’s organizers exploited this ambition and positioned the event as a first taste of future cosmopolitan logistics for

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A Piece of Europe in a Winter Garden

projected guests of the city in 2020. That worked fine for the first two editions. But the city did not get that status, the honor went to Dubai (that, thankfully, did not stop the city from running the 3rd edition of the Biennial). Interesting to note is that Ekaterina Degot, the curator of the 1st Industrial Biennial in 2010, talked at length about the Dubai-sation of Ekaterinburg—the sprawling commercial malls, the banks and business centres that dominate the city that feels very uncomfortable on the ground level. Second, to question the idea of change. A biennial (World Expo, or any forthcoming event of global importance) serves as a new step for the city towards a new role. These large gatherings of intellect and innovation are supposed to introduce the city to a new kind of network, a post-Industrial one, based on human creativity and resources of the mind. Not just a place to burn money—a place to think and create. Is change really possible as something that happens during international travels? By highlighting the strategy of the local museum I proposed that change could start with something that’s already there, by making visible something that is ignored by the Biennial and feels like an identity staple (negative or positive) by many of the locals. Kaslinsky pavilion, this piece of Europe, was not of a piece with Europe. Global events should listen to what the pavilion and the museum history say. But were there listeners enough? Sure, the Biennial’s commissioner and supporter of my project, Alisa Prudnikova, recognized the importance of such a piece of site-specific art criticism, as did the main project’s curator Yara Bubnova. Younger audience members also welcomed a recontextualization of a landmark they were told about from the earliest kindergarten days. The museum was not that happy. From the start I decided that my piece will be a partisan intrusion, independent of how the museum wants to represent itself during the Biennial (not that the museum was keen on entering the program of events). The museum’s curators hated what they perceived as a mocking of the region’s pride and remained oblivious to polemics on the Biennial’s politics because they were already suspicious of everything that’s new, including new contexts. “A piece of Europe in a Winter Garden” has ended while Ekaterinburg’s life goes on. Yara Bubnova’s main project was called “The eye never sees itself”. An apt title for the situation I’ve found my guided tour in. But maybe, just maybe, an act of interpretation and context-building will prove meaningful enough to question the issues I raised even deeper. My deepest gratitude goes to Marina Sokolovskaya and Anatoly Ptashnik— their help with this project has been immesurable.

“Architects decided to reconstruct the feel of the Paris World Expo”: Ekaterinburg Museum of Fine Arts, façade. Drawing by Anatoly Ptashnik, 1980s. Courtesy: Anatoly Ptashnik

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SPATENSTICHE – ARBEITSWEISEN DER ANGEWANDTEN SOZIOLOGIE [ Peter Arlt im Gespräch mit Barbara Holub, 24.11.2013 ]

Entwicklung entsteht nicht ohne Vernetzung und PartnerInnen vor Ort. Das bleibt ansonsten eine Event-Geschichte, aber Entwicklung entsteht daraus nicht. (zuordnen)

Was erscheint Ihnen besonders schwierig an Ihrem Beruf im Alltag? Besonders schwierig? Da fällt mir zuerst gar nichts ein. In Linz ist die Überzeugung der Politik mühsam. Ich musste lernen, geduldig zu sein. Man stößt sehr viel an, aber bis es sich gesetzt hat, muss man geduldig sein. PolitikerInnen müssen es verarbeiten und in ihr System einbauen. Man muss von vielen Seiten kommen, dann bewegt sich Politik. Aber es gibt auch Leute im Linzer Magistrat, die ich gar nicht überzeugen muss. Und in Blöcken, die im ersten Moment abwehrend sind, muss man die Leute finden, mit denen man gemeinsame Sache macht. Insofern ist es natürlich politische Arbeit. Mittlerweile schreibe ich das auch in Förderanträgen als eigenen Posten hinein: „Beamtenbeteiligung“, nicht „Bürgerbeteiligung“. Stadtentwicklung, wie wir sie betreiben, ist eine Querschnittsmaterie. Ein Magistrat denkt aber, wie jede Bürokratie, in Abteilungen und Zuständigkeiten. Wir versuchen ämterübergreifende Arbeitskreise zu installieren: Da gibt es von der Politik schon Zugeständnisse. Ich sehe das alles aber nicht als Schwierigkeit – das hätte ich vielleicht früher gesagt. Jetzt sehe ich es eher als politische Arbeit. Was ist sonst noch schwierig? Im Franckviertel, in dem ich arbeite, erreicht man sehr viele Leute nicht. Ein paar erwischt man immer, die aktiv sind. Aber es ist gar nicht mehr mein Ziel, viele zu erreichen. Ich habe natürlich schon eine Vision, was ich dort will oder wo es hingehen könnte. Dann schaue ich, wo arbeitet vielleicht jemand ähnlich oder hat ähnliche Interessen. Die Person versuche ich dann zu gewinnen. Meistens haben einzelne Leute dann noch andere hinter sich, eine

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kleine Gruppe, mit der man arbeitet. Ich habe auch nicht den Anspruch, alle einzubinden. Insofern sehe ich das auch nicht als Schwierigkeit. Ich mache es deshalb, weil ich viel positive Energie zurückbekomme. Ich bin ja kein Heiliger. Darum arbeite ich nur mit Leuten, die auch etwas wollen. BH: Jetzt eine ganz andere Frage. Wie siehst du deine Rolle bei Projekten wie jenem im Franckviertel, an dem du nun ja schon seit Jahren arbeitest: Ist es für dich ein Anliegen, dass es im Kunstkontext diskutiert wird? PA: Ganz ausschließen kann ich es nicht, weil es auch um Anerkennung von außen geht. Es ist ja nicht so, dass im Franckviertel alle das Projekt super finden. Federführend sind wir zu zweit. Ich sage immer, ich bin der Außenminister. Ich schaue auch, dass wir Gelder kriegen, und den Thomas Mader, den Zweiten, den kennt dort jeder, weil er das Franck4-TV, einen Community-Fernsehsender macht. Er kennt sehr viele Leute und ist schon vier Jahre länger dort als ich. Durch ihn bin ich 2006 hingekommen. Mir geht es schon auch um eine gewisse Außenwirkung, ich lade auch immer wieder Leute ein, mit mir gemeinsam dort etwas zu machen. Der Kunstkontext beeinflusst aber nicht meine Arbeit – wenn ich in der Kunstwelt reüssieren will, dann muss ich auch etwas zum Herzeigen haben, etwas Materielles, das als Bild funktioniert. Ich bin aber keiner, der materiell so viel produziert. Natürlich haben wir die Schule umgebaut. Darauf bin ich extrem stolz, dass wir das gemeinsam mit der Schule geschafft haben. Ich sehe 100 Kinder, die dort jetzt ein ganz anderes Lernen haben. [...] Wir haben schon eine Vision, aber wie wir da hinkommen, ist relativ offen, weil es von Dingen und Personen abhängt, die auf politischer Ebene wie im Viertel passieren.

BH: Die Frage ist ja dann auch immer, wie all die unsichtbare Arbeit sichtbar gemacht wird, die sehr aufwendige Kommunikationsarbeit, bis man versteht, wie eine Gemeinde oder ein Stadtviertel funktioniert – auch auf der übergeordneten politischen Ebene. Und wenn man einen gewissen Boden hat, auf dem man agieren kann, geht es darum, diesen auch zu halten. PA: Um das geht’s genau: Wie wichtig sind Netzwerke? Ich habe mir Zeit genommen, das zu reflektieren. Es ist auch ein Manko, immer nur vorwärts zu denken und nie zu schauen, was hat wirklich funktioniert und warum. Dazu hab ich mir drei Monate Zeit genommen und Leute befragt. BH: Das ist für mich auch ganz wesentlich. Für die Politik ist auch immer ein Faktor, wie sie solche Projekte dann vermitteln können. Wie erfolgt die Bewertung? Meistens sind solche Prozesse zu wenig medientauglich, als dass man damit punkten könnte. Das ist genau das Spektakel, gegen das wir anarbeiten. PA: Ein bisschen Spektakel muss man immer machen, damit man Öffentlichkeit bekommt, und auch Gelder. Die Gemeinwesenarbeit im Franckviertel hat erst 2000 angefangen, ich führe die Verbesserungen im Viertel zu einem guten Teil auf die Schule zurück, weil es ein sehr engagiertes Lehrteam gibt. Die LehrerInnen schauen drauf, dass es eine gute Klassengemeinschaft gibt. Was an anderen Schulen selbstverständlich ist, fehlt hier. Sie können nicht auf Projekttage wegfahren, weil die Eltern zu wenig Geld haben. Oft haben sie nicht einmal das Geld für eine Jause. Am Anfang war die Gemeinwesenarbeit sehr schwierig: Es gab Netzwerktreffen, und alle waren vollkommen reserviert. Niemand hat erzählt, wie es ihm oder ihr geht, mit welchem Problem er oder sie kämpft. Am Anfang war unter den Vereinen und Institutionen auch viel Misstrauen da. Man muss auch sagen, dass sich durch 2009 (Anm.: Kulturhauptstadt Linz 09) viel

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getan hat. Es gab ein bisschen mehr Gelder. Die Gruppen haben sich stärker formiert, aber dann merkt man auch, wo die Grenzen sind, mit wem man weiter arbeiten kann. Das habe ich vor drei Jahren wieder in Liverpool (Anm.: Liverpool Biennale) probiert. So eine Arbeit, ohne langfristig vor Ort zu sein, mache ich nicht mehr. Es hat nur einen Sinn, wenn es über Jahre geht. Man muss es langfristig anlegen. Bis du Beziehungen aufbaust zu einzelnen Gruppen, bis man sich kennt und ein Vertrauen da ist – das ist nicht so schnell herzustellen. Was empfinden Sie als bereichernd an der Figur/Rolle der Urban Practitioners? PA: Dass man sehr schnell in Kontakt kommt, in einer Aktion drinnen und gleich im Tun ist. Und was als die größte Herausforderung? PA: Das zu finden, wo die anderen sofort mitmachen, weil es so selbstverständlich ist. Zum Beispiel haben wir im heurigen Sommer beim Schulfest einen Spatenstich gemacht. Das war eine spontane Idee. Es ging immer darum, wie wir die Eltern stärker involvieren. Da gab es die Frage des Schulgartens: Wieso geht nichts weiter, obwohl es einen Plan gibt? Und da hab ich gesagt: „Wisst ihr was, jetzt machen wir einen Spatenstich.“ Die Väter wussten nichts davon. Das war nicht spontan, wir hatten es natürlich schon vorbereitet, sonst wären keine Schaufeln da gewesen, aber es wusste keiner davon, auch die PolitikerInnen nicht. Das finde ich schon wichtig, dass man sie auch immer ein wenig herausfordert. Die Direktorin hat gesagt: „Es gibt jetzt einen überraschenden Spatenstich, bitte die Politik Spaten ausfassen, starke Väter sind gefragt.“ Dann sind sie alle gekommen. Wir hatten auf der Wiese schon einen Kreis gezeichnet und angesprüht, was ausgehoben werden soll. Alle fragten: „Wofür? Machen wir halt.“ Nachher haben wir natürlich alles erklärt. Die Väter haben durchgearbeitet, das war eine Gaude. Das sind so direkte

Geschichten, wo man zu einem Fest kommt und plötzlich noch etwas anderes passiert. Man muss immer schauen, wo sich was tut und wo man etwas verknüpfen könnte. Es ist diese Übersetzungsarbeit, die wir leisten müssen. Und zugleich war dann das Magistrat gefordert – und heute gibt’s tatsächlich einen fertigen Sitzkreis.

Welche Rollen sollen künstlerische Strategien in Bezug auf Stadtplanung und Stadtentwicklung einnehmen? Mit welchen Fragestellungen sollen sich Urban Practitioners befassen? PA: Statt des Begriffs „Stadtplanung“ verwende ich eigentlich nur mehr „Stadtentwicklung“. BH: Aber „Stadtentwicklung“ wird meistens mit gängigen Vorstellungen verknüpft. PA: Ja, natürlich. BH: transparadiso bezeichnet es als „direkten Urbanismus“, das heißt Stadtentwicklung unter Berücksichtigung von sozialen und gesellschaftspolitischen Aspekten. Das ist quasi ein erweiterter Begriff von Stadtentwicklung oder sogar eine Umwertung, das heißt Stadtentwicklung entgegen den neoliberalen Interessen. PA: Da bin ich natürlich ganz Soziologe. Ich sehe das auch als soziale Stadtentwicklung. Das Bauliche ist für mich immer nachgelagert. Es passiert schon, aber das Wesentliche ist, dass sich ein Stadtteil entwickeln kann, dass man Netzwerke organisiert, pflegt und miteinander etwas macht. Das kann manchmal zum Bauen führen, aber nicht immer. Es ist für mich natürlich viel immaterieller als für ArchitektInnen. BH: Es geht ja eigentlich um die Verschränkung von diesen Fähigkeiten, die ein anderes Augenmerk in den Vordergrund bringen. PA: Wenn es ums Bauen geht, hole ich mir jemanden. Ich bin eher einer, der an einer Ausschreibung arbeitet oder die Vorgaben macht. In der Schule waren die Workshops mit den LehrerInnen davor wichtig: Wie stelle ich mir meinen Unterricht vor? Wie stelle ich mir mein Tun vor? Und aus dem heraus entwickelt sich dann der Raum. Die Frage ist: Wie übersetze ich das?

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Welche Themen finden Sie aufgrund Ihrer beruflichen Erfahrung besonders relevant für die Gesellschaft, die Öffentlichkeit, den öffentlichen Raum? PA: Ich finde ich das Thema Bildung sehr wichtig. Die Schulen sind der Grund, warum das Franckviertel so ist, wie es ist. Über die Schulen und über die Eltern entsteht ein gewisses Klima. Was sind sonst noch wichtige Themen? Wo es sich abspielt, in den Höfen natürlich auch. Ich mache relativ viel in Wohnhöfen, direkt dort, wo die Leute aufeinander- oder zusammenstoßen. BH: Was wären weiter gefasste Themen oder gesellschaftliche Anliegen? PA: Das hat mit meiner Sozialisation zu tun. Ich bin auch ein Arbeiterkind, unter Kreisky groß geworden. Ohne den wäre ich nie in eine Mittelschule gekommen. Das steckt in mir drin, dass ich den Leuten, die es schwer haben, die Chancen geben möchte, die ich auch hatte. Das sind in dem Fall auch MigrantInnen oder die sogenannten Bildungsfernen. Es geht schon darum, auch in solchen Vierteln ein bisschen Chancengleichheit herzustellen. Klingt ein bisschen pathetisch. Worauf warten Sie? PA: Ich warte eigentlich ungern, da fällt mir jetzt nichts ein. Ich warte auf nichts. Es ist noch nicht so, wie ich es will. Ich brauche Geduld. Auch beim Magistrat muss man permanent bohren. Wenn ich nur warte, passiert nichts. Zum Teil sagen auch PolitikerInnen: „Ihr müsst lästig sein, wenn ihr was wollt.“ Was bedeutet für Sie intensiv? PA: Intensiv ist es auch in der Schule für mich, mit den Kindern. Wenn ich mit ihnen einen Workshop mache, dann bin ich immer vollkommen geschlaucht. Da ist so viel Energie und auch Lautstärke da. Da denk ich mir, wie halten das die LehrerInnen den ganzen Tag aus? Intensiv ist es immer, wenn man mit Leuten zu tun hat, die ganz anders sind als man selbst. Dann wird es auch anstrengend. Das halte ich nicht oft durch. Man kann es wahrscheinlich auch positiver sehen, aber Intensität ist für mich eigentlich immer eher mit Anstrengung oder Herausforderung verbunden.

“Spatenstich ins Blaue”/Spontaneous ground-breaking with fathers and politicians. Dorfhalleschule Franckviertel, Linz.

Welche Veränderungen wünschen Sie sich? Was könnte die Arbeit der Urban Practitioners erleichtern?

Sind Sie ein Urban Practitioner? Bzw. wen würden Sie als Urban Practitioner bezeichnen?

PA: Da bin ich wieder bei der Politik: Man müsste Stadtentwicklung anders betreiben. Man müsste rausgehen, es müsste einen fliegenden Stadtentwickler geben, so wie einen fliegenden Händler, einen, der unterwegs ist, der zuhört. Ich hab auch vor, das nächstes Jahr zu machen. Vor ein paar Jahren hab ich eine Klappakademie gegründet, das Minimaltool, mit dem kann ich mich überall hinsetzen, also irgendwo im öffentlichen Raum. Wir haben vor, dass wir uns wirklich in Höfe setzen, ausschwärmen und schauen, was passiert. Was erzählen uns die Leute – ganz offen? Da sind wir wieder bei der sozialen Stadtentwicklung. Es geht eigentlich darum, dass man ins Gespräch kommt. Natürlich hört man sich dann viel Raunzerei an, aber vielleicht entdeckt man auch etwas, woran man auf einmal anknüpfen kann. So stell ich mir Stadtentwicklung vor. Natürlich muss irgendjemand dann einen Plan zeichnen, irgendwann.

PA: Wahrscheinlich schon. Ich verwende den Begriff nicht, ich sage immer, ich mache „angewandte Soziologie“. Aber ich arbeite viel als Praktiker. Auch angewandter Urbanismus oder direkter Urbanismus, das passt alles.

BH: Den fliegenden Händler, den fliegenden Teppich finde ich sehr schön.

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Wie viel Planung braucht das Ungeplante? PA: Der Spatenstich war nicht ungeplant, er war für die anderen überraschend. Planung braucht es vielleicht nicht, aber es braucht eine Konstanz und Präsenz von einem selbst. Es braucht das Aufrechterhalten von Beziehungen. Dann entstehen Sachen, mit denen man nicht rechnet. Wir haben zum Beispiel einen typischen Franckviertler Hackler. Der ist immer unterwegs, der kennt jeden. Immer hat er gemosert und mit uns geredet, aber er ist nie gekommen. Seit drei Monaten ist er plötzlich präsent und erzählt mir, was er machen will. Er redet mehr als er tut, aber er ist jetzt permanent bei uns. Da überlege ich die ganze Zeit, wie spanne ich den ein, wie erwische ich den, so dass er wirklich was tut. So beschäftigen mich Leute.

Elements of Paradise Enterprise

After using artistic and sociological procedures to create a detailed analysis of the social and urban aspects of the town as a whole, transparadiso selected the former Paradise Garden of the old Clarisse Convent fronting the Mur River as the central site of the project. The garden had been used by the municipality for storage and occasionally as a site for travelling circuses. The convent has been converted into social housing, an estate whose reputation in Judenburg is stigmatized despite its high living standards and its promise-resonating address on “Paradise Street”. By reactivating this undervalued site, the goal was not only to fulfill the needs and wishes of the young people of Judenburg, but also to establish the new Paradise Garden as a public space. This communal space now invigorates the whole town by connecting the bourgeois historic town center with the opposite side of the Mur River, where the steel factory {03} and working class neighborhood are located. The realization of the different projects on the site formed a solid foundation for the establishment of a new kind of a master plan for urban development – one based on artistic urban interventions.

“Paradise Enterprise” {01} developed new perspectives for the town of Judenburg by employing the method of direct urbanism {02}. Judenburg, a town of 10,000 inhabitants in the Austrian province of Styria, is massively afflicted by the effects of rural flight—something common to all of Upper Styria and many other cities and regions in Europe as well. Direct urbanism involves artistic urban strategies in a process-orientated and long-term urban planning method that takes social aspects into consideration. These social aspects are crucial, go beyond the usual considerations of urban planning, and including them is imperative to counteracting the neo-liberal decision-making tendencies that dominate urban planning.

transparadiso [ Barbara Holub & Paul Rajakovics ]

PARADISE ENTERPRISE, JUDENBURG, 2013–2014

See Guy Debord and the Situationists

The scheme was conceived by transparadiso and funded by the Institute of Public Art, Styria.

Walks to explore the Mur area, 2013.

A herbarium as an educational tool: a nature trail along the river Mur is installed in 2015.

Direct urbanism was developed by transparadiso and can be considered a third layer in addition to urban design and urban planning. See also the transparadiso publication Direct Urbanism, Verlag für moderne Kunst Nürnberg, 2013

Paradise Enterprise is funded by departure, the creative agency of the City of Vienna. Additional funding by the City of Judenburg and the Institute of Public Art Styria.

03 The steel plant was privatized in the 1980s and is now a consortium of the companies Stahl Judenburg (GMH Gruppe), Wuppermann GmbH, and Frauenthal Automotive Judenburg GmbH. The number of plant workers has dropped from 2,800 to 750, yet the company remains Judenburg’s primary employer.

Developing Tools: The raft AMAMUR In a first step, transparadiso developed strategies for connecting to the people of Judenburg. On public hikes along the Mur, young people showed their “secret places”, revealing the hidden potential of this underrated natural environment. In the next phase, teenagers were invited to build a raft of recycled wood. The raft was used as a means of exploring the riverbank landscapes, providing a new view from the center of the river and tying into memories of the days when people still actively used the river for rafting and swimming. A raft landing was rediscovered in the summer of 2013 and became an informal beach. The Amamur has now been turned over to the Youth Center, which already operates a camp located downstream. An herbarium for Mur river vegetation was set up as an educational tool, and a nature trail with QR codes for smartphones is planned.

Historical town center

Circus square

Ex-monastery / social housing

Paradise Garden

Constructing the raft AMAMUR on the main square, Judenburg

Girls Club, Folke Köbberling The Smallest Show on Earth 2, Stefan Demming

Exploring the River Mur with the AMAMUR

Murdorf

Steel factory

Artist Stefan Demming’s “The Smallest Show on Earth 2” addressed the topic of circus grounds. Larger circuses are becoming a rarity these days, as they have little chance of surviving financially. As a result, the area, which is fixed in the public mind as a circus grounds, remains empty most of the time. In May 2014, “The Smallest Show on Earth 2” came to the circus grounds of the Paradise Garden. Stefan Demming successfully involved local residents in the development of four shows comprised of a variety of performances. This enabled participating residents to become actors and producers instead of just consumers. The people of Judenburg produced the show themselves, performing their hidden talents and thus appropriating the space. This was the first opportunity for the residents of Paradise Street to reveal their under-recognized potential to a broader audience.

In order to activate the Paradise Garden as a communal public space and thus connect the historical town center to the working class neighborhood of Murdorf, three public art projects were realized in 2014, each of them based on the wishes of the people of Judenburg. The main focus of the projects was to create situations that empower the people, returning the responsibility to them, and allowing users to take matters into their own hands.

Creating New Situations: The Paradise Garden The image of a contemporary “paradise”, one showcasing the beauty and value of the landscape along the Mur River, was rediscovered in the previous step and then projected back onto Paradiesgasse, or Paradise Street, the actual site of the long-term intervention. The starting point for the activation of the Paradise Garden as a public space was the realization of different public art projects together with the people of Judenburg, the concepts of which were based on the diverse wishes of the residents {04}. The identification of the Paradise Garden as a “situation {05},” i.e., a focus for the development of future prospects for Judenburg, socially as well as geographically, is a core feature of the project.

The Smallest Show on Earth 2, Stefan Demming, 2014

Institute of Art and Design and the Department of Housing and Design / Faculty of Architecture and Spatial Planning

Along with the opening of “…we want BMX + pumptrack…” in July 2014, projects by students from the Vienna University of Technology {06} were realized for the “World Expo of the Missing Things”. “Extreme Knitters”, one of the student-initiated projects, was adopted by the people of Judenburg with such enthusiasm that their ambition resulted in what is possibly the largest urban knitting project to date: a pillar of the Paradise Garden bridge was ensconced in 140 square meters of knitting.

Christine and Irene Hohenbüchler worked on the project “…we want BMX + pumptrack…” with local teenagers to accomplish a longaspired dream of the teens: a BMX track not constantly threatened with demolition. The artists supported the creation of a hybrid BMX track, a place desired and used not only by the “Extreme Chillers,” the group of initiators from Judenburg, but also by youths from the surrounding area. The BMX track immediately transformed the abandoned dump into an avidly used meeting point for young people. Beyond the obvious use as BMX track, as a self-organized venue, this site has now also become a testing field for youths with diverse backgrounds to learn social negotiation and group cooperation.

Folke Köbberling’s “Girls’ Club” references the site’s historically charged location. The artist from Berlin operated like an archaeologist, conceiving the girls’ club, which was requested by local youth, as a dig from which a sunken terrace surfaces. It is equipped with vertical awnings to display a color code the girls created together with the artist to announce messages such as, for example, if boys are allowed in or not. The excavation is surrounded by a garden of heirloom tomato varieties (in Austrian dialect, Paradeis means both paradise and tomato) – an area cared for by residents of Paradise Street and beyond, thus creating Judenburg’s first community garden.

A whole town was knitting: the wrapped pillar of the Paradise Garden bridge

Opening of "... we want BMX and pumptrack...", July 2014

October 2014: the Paradise Garden with the interventions by Christine and Irene Hohenbüchler and Folke Köbberling

Direct Urbanism: Planning as an Open Process The adaptable formats of this model direct urbanism project provide the flexibility necessary to address a variety of urban issues that arise on short notice, or “missing things,” and thus bolster a broader perspective of urban development that encompasses social issues. The challenge of initiating a project that addresses the issue of shrinking populations through creating prospects for young people is not a simple task. A single project cannot resolve these often complex problems. However, methods of direct urbanism can nurture self-empowerment and new collaborations—by and with citizens and the municipality alike. The profound quality of projects like Paradise Enterprise offsets demands to measure success by quantifiable criteria. The great engagement and pleasure experienced by the various people involved is the best signifier of how people can take matters into their own hands to bring about new visions and real change in a durational process. The first and very visible sign of change in Judenburg is the transformation of the Paradise Garden. This experience has encouraged the mayor and vice-mayor to be open-minded about the next step, which also responds to the current needs of the city of Judenburg. The process comprehends actions based on practice research, reacting to necessities as they evolve, and responding to changing demands. This ranges from temporary art interventions that explore the town and its social context, the first phase of transformation of an urban void into the Paradise Garden with temporary and permanent installations, and all the way to architectural constructions that redefine the site and the space in yet another spatial and social dimension. The remodeling of the landscape and the establishment of a public river access will be the final step, piggybacking on to the construction of a new dam on the Mur River. When this has been accomplished, the Paradise Garden can fully reveal its previously hidden potential to the fullest, some aspects of which may have still to be imagined.

Development plan with realized art projects

Site of the Paradise Garden, 2013

AUTHOR BIOGRAPHIES

[ Markus Ambach ] Markus Ambach (Düsseldorf / GER) is an artist, project author, and initiator of numerous projects in public spaces, artist-generated project spaces, and exhibitions. Among other projects, in 2010 he realized the first part of the project “B1A40 Die Schönheit der großen Straße” (“B1A40 The Beauty of the Grand Road”) in the urban sphere along the motorway A40 in the Ruhr area (GER), which was elected the most special exhibition in 2010 by AICA. The project is being continued in 2014. In 2012 he realized “Der urbane Kongress” (“The Urban Congress”), a project on how to deal with the stock of art in public space in Cologne (GER, with Kay von Keitz; www.derurbanekongress.de). Since 2012 he has been working on the project “Ein ahnungsloser Traum vom Park”, which is engaged in the urban changes of the town center of Mönchengladbach (GER), in collaboration with the Museum Abteiberg. In 2014 he will finish his first permanent project, “Choreografie einer Landschaft”, establishing several art pieces by international artists like Thomas Schütte, Jeanne van Heeswijk, Jakob Kolding, and others in a landscape park in the Ruhr area. www.choreografieeinerlandschaft.de; www.markusambachprojekte.de

[ atelier d’architecture autogérée ] atelier d’architecture autogérée (aaa) (Paris / F; Sheffield / UK) is a research-led practice founded by Constantin Petcou and Doina Petrescu in 2001 in Paris to conduct actions and research on participative architecture. The various collaborations include architects, artists, urban planners, sociologists, activists, students, and residents working within a network with variable geometry. aaa has developed a

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practice of collective appropriation of urban spaces and their transformation into a series of self-managed facilities. This micro-political project has been carried out through different instances and locations: ECObox, Passage 56 in Paris and more recently R-Urban, starting in the suburban town of Colombes (F). aaa has received a number of international prizes including the Zumtobel Prize for Sustainability and Humanity (2012), the Curry Stone Design Prize (2011), 2nd place at the Prix Grand Public des Architectures Contemporaines de la Métropole Parisienne (2010), and the special mention of the European Public Space Prize (2010). www.urbantactics.org

neoliberalism and the shopping mall as forces that have come to define urban life. Her most recent research project (WWTF) elaborates on “Spaces of Commoning—Artistic Practices, the Making of Urban Commons and Visions of Change” (together with Stefan Gruber, Ernst Gruber, Annette Krauss, Vladimir Miller, Aras Ozgun, and Hong-Kai Wang). She is currently a professor at the Institute for Art Theory and Cultural Studies and cocoordinator of the PhD program “PhD in Practice” at the Academy of Fine Arts Vienna.

[ Peter Arlt ]

Kerstin Bergendal (Copenhagen / DK) is a visual artist and independent curator, working with photo, video, and long-term discoursive processes and large-scale interventions with a focus on rethinking and reclaiming our commons. Currently she is realizing “THE PARK LEK PROJECT”. She just finalized “Twenty Days in Viborg—a Journey”, a proposal for an altered version of the history of Viborg (DK). In 2010, her artistic reorganization of the major public library in Copenhagen was concluded. “THE NEW BRØNSHØJ LIBRARY” is the realization of a proposal from 2008; Missing Links—Reinventing the Local Library was published by Copenhagen Libraries in 2008. From 2001 to 2011 she curated “THE TREKRONER ART PLAN PROJECT” for the Municipality of Roskilde in Denmark (see: Paul O’Neill, Claire Doherty (Eds.): Locating the Producers: Durational Approaches to Public Art, Amsterdam: Valiz, 2010). From 1991 to 2011 Bergendal cofounded / coheaded different artist-run initiatives, such as TAPKO—a nomadic platform for site-specific strategies, and Overgaden—Institute of Contemporary Art from 1996 to 2002. From 2008 to 2010 she was a member of the Committee for Art in Public Realm of the National Foundation of the Arts in Denmark. www.parklek.com; www.tyvedage.com

Peter Arlt (Linz / A) is an “applied sociologist” engaged in the public realm for which he develops interventions, discourse, research, and projects for urban development. He has focused—apart from other projects—on the Franckviertel, a long-term engagement in an urban quarter in Linz since 2006, which he pursues in collaboration with local inhabitants. Further projects included “Klapp-Akademie” (Linz / A, 2012, 2011, 2010), “3 Hutschen für Wagrain” (with Andi Strauss; Wagrain / A, 2006), “Kioskisierung” (Leipzig / GER, Lodz / PL, Belgrade / SRB, Bratislava / SK, Linz / A, Halle / GER, 2005), “56 empfindsame Laternen” (Neufelden / A, 2005), “real*utopia: Club der Nichtschwimmer” (with B. Foerster-Baldenius, Wolfgang Grillitsch; Graz / A, 2003), and “Fußgängerradaranlage” (Berlin / GER, 2001). Publications include Kinder-Reiseführer Franckviertel (2013), “Was Stadtplaner von Zwischennutzern lernen können” in Oswalt, Overmeyer, Misselwitz (eds.): Urban Catalyst, Berlin, 2013; “In die Stadt einmischen” in: Bina, Hauenfels, Potocnik: Architekturführer Linz 1900–2010, Vienna, 2010; “Taktictestejsi Urbanismus” in ERA 21, Brno, 2010; “Über die Herstellung urbaner Orte in einer Gegend” in Metropole: Metrozonen, IBA Hamburg, 2010; and LINZ ATLAS Zur Lebensqualität hier und anderswo (eds. Peter Arlt, Dimitri Broquard, Jonas Voegeli, 2009). www.peterarlt.at

[ Anette Baldauf ] Anette Baldauf (Vienna / A) is a sociologist and cultural critic who has continuously collaborated with artists on questions of public space, consumerism, and economic imaginaries. In her work she explored

[ Kerstin Bergendal ]

[ Regina Bittner ] Regina Bittner (Dessau / GER) is a cultural theorist and curator. She studied cultural theory and art history at the Karl-Marx-University Leipzig and received her PhD from the Humboldt University of Berlin. She is head of the Bauhaus Kolleg and has been associate director of the Bauhaus Dessau Foundation since 2009. She has curated numerous

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exhibitions on the history of classical modernism and on urban cultural history. In her research she focuses on urban ethnography, transnational modernism, global urban culture, as well as heritage studies. She has published numerous articles and books and lectures at international conferences. Selected publications: Kolonien des Eigensinns. Ethnografie einer ostdeutschen Industrieregion (Frankfurt a.M., 1998); Urbane Paradiese (ed., Frankfurt a.M., 2001); Die Stadt als Event. Zur Konstruktion urbaner Erlebnisräume (ed., Frankfurt a.M., 2002); Transitspaces Berlin Moscow (ed. together with Kai Vöckler and Wilfried Hackenbroich; Berlin, 2006); Bauhausstadt Dessau: Identitätssuche auf den Spuren der Moderne (Frankfurt a.M., 2010); UN Urbanism Postconflict Cities Mostar Kabul (ed. together with Kai Vöckler and Wilfried Hackenbroich; Berlin, 2010); The Bauhaus in Calcutta: An Encounter of the Cosmopolitan Avant-Garde (ed. together with Kathrin Rhomberg; Hatje Cantz, 2013).

[ Valentin Diaconov ] Valentin Diaconov (Ekaterinburg / RUS) graduated from the Russian State University of Humanities with a degree in cultural studies. His PhD deals with official and underground art of the Thaw period. Since 1998 he has written for art magazines like New Art World, ArtChronika, ArtGuide, Frieze, and artinfo. com. Since 2009 he has been staff arts writer for the Kommersant newspaper. In 2006, together with MosKultProg (Moscow Culturological Explorations), he organized a guided tour of the cradle of Russian underground art—Lianozovo district (Moscow / RUS). In 2010, in partnership with Kandower Stiftung (Stuttgart / GER), he organized Great Encounters, an exhibition of the Prospekt Slavy creative association, at XL Gallery, Moscow (RUS). In 2012 he inaugurated “the largest ready-made in the world” (Ekaterinburg Museum of Fine Arts at Voevodina Street) as part of the 2nd Industrial Biennial in Ekaterinburg and curated the project “Common Cause Philosophy— 20th-century Art” at Perm State Gallery of Arts (Perm / RUS). In 2014 he curated two solo shows by two artist duos—MishMash (OGLYANAZ at Roza Azora Gallery, Moscow / RUS) and Dmitry Venkov / Antonina Baever (“There Will Be No More Time” at Manege Central Exhibition Center, Moscow / RUS). Infrequently he raises the population of cats on the Internet via his blog: greatbuildingsandgiantcats.tumblr.com.

[ Stefan Gruber ] Stefan Gruber (Vienna / A) is the principal of STUDIOGRUBER, a Vienna-based architecture and research office working at the intersection between architectural design and urbanism. He is a professor at the Academy of Fine Arts Vienna, where he directs the Platform for Geography, Landscape, Cities. His teaching and research explore the negotiation of bottom-up and top-down design and planning strategies. He is the recipient of an Akademie Schloss Solitude Fellowship and a WWTF grant for researching artistic practices and urban commons. In 2010 his office was selected one of 12 emerging Young Viennese Architects (YoVA 3). His design work includes the Lecture Pods Semper Depot (Vienna / A), Tischlein Deck Dich (a hybrid garden / kitchen / table installation at the Bauhaus Dessau / GER), and winning competition entries for the Europan 11 in Graz (A) and the cultural institution Schunck* in Heerlen (NL). From 2002 to 2006 Stefan Gruber collaborated with Diller, Scofido + Renfro in New York (USA).

[ Jeanne van Heeswijk ] Jeanne van Heeswijk (Rotterdam / NL) is an artist. How can an artist be an instrument for the collective reimagining of daily environments, given the complexity of our societies? This is the question that artist Jeanne van Heeswijk, of the Netherlands, considers when deciding how to employ her work to improve communities. Van Heeswijk believes communities need to coproduce their own futures. That’s why she embeds herself, for years at a time, in communities from Rotterdam (NL) to Liverpool (UK), working with them to improve their neighborhoods and empowering them to design their own futures—not wait for local authorities to foist upon them urban planning schemes which rarely take embedded culture into account. Her work often attempts to unravel invisible legislation, governmental codes, and social institutions, gradually preparing areas for their predictive futures. She calls it “radicalizing the local” by empowering communities to become their own antidote. Van Heeswijk’s work has been featured in numerous books and publications worldwide, as well as internationally renowned biennials such as those of Liverpool (UK), Busan (KR), Taipei (RC), Shanghai (CHN) and Venice (I). She has received a host of

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accolades and recognitions for her work, including the 2012 Curry Stone Prize for Social Design Pioneers and the 2011 Leonore Annenberg Prize for Art and Social Change.

[ Christine and Irene Hohenbüchler ] Christine and Irene Hohenbüchler (Vienna, Eichgraben / A; Münster / GER) are artists. Christine Hohenbüchler is a professor and head of the Institute of Art and Design, Vienna University of Technology; 1984/89 Mag. art at University of Applied Arts Vienna (A), Jan van Eyck Akademie, Maastricht (NL); 1991–2002 freelance artist, living in Berlin and Eichgraben. 2002 professorship for visual language at the Institute of Art and Design at the Vienna University of Technology, since 2007 head of Institute of Art and Design. Irene Hohenbüchler is a professor at the Münster Academy of Fine Arts. The twin sisters have been working as a team and expanding their personal work, which often addresses issues in the historical and sociopolitical arena, through collaborative processes with other groups and individuals. They engage in an intensive dialog with their partners and jointly create largescale installations. The twin sisters refer to this way of collaboration as “multiple authorship” and use the term as a central idea of their work. The work with institutions outside the art context and the “marginalized” arena in the semi-public sphere is not seldom received as a provocation—which is never intended—and a contribution to polarizing the audience and the art scene. Selected projects and exhibitions include: “Paradise – Enterprise” (Judenburg / A, 2013/2014), “B1|A40 Die Schönheit der großen Straße” (Eichbaum / D, 2014), “Choreografie einer Landschaft, 12 projects for Bergpark Lohberg” (Dinslaken / GER, 2013); “… in circles …”, in collaboration with Gilbert Bretterbauer, Ausstellungshalle zeitgenössischer Kunst (Münster / GER, 2008); “Offene Handlungsfelder”, Venice Biennial, Austrian Pavilion (Venice / I, 1999); “Eiserner Vorhang” (“Safety Curtain”), “Museum in Progress, Staatsoper” (Vienna / A, 1999); “documenta X, HERBAR 13”, a collaboration as “multiple authorship” with Lebenshilfe Lienz (Kassel / GER, 1997).

[ Barbara Holub ]

[ Grant Kester ]

Barbara Holub (Vienna / A) is an artist. She founded transparadiso with Paul Rajakovics in 1999 as a transdisciplinary practice in between art, urbanism, architecture, and theory. In her artistic practice she develops performative settings and explores new formats for collaborative processes engaged in urban and societal issues. Holub teaches at the University of Applied Arts Vienna and at the Vienna University of Technology. 2004 Schindler Grant, MAK Center for Art and Architecture, Los Angeles. 2005–2007 member of the jury of Public Art Lower Austria. 2006–2007 president of the Secession, Vienna. 2010–2014 head of the research project “Planning Unplanned_Towards a New Positioning of Art in the Context of Urban Development”. 2014 visiting professor at the University of Applied Arts Vienna. Member of the advisory board of the Art and the Public Sphere Journal and of The World Council of Peoples for the United Nations (NY). Current / recent projects and shows include: “Vienna Biennial” (Vienna, 2015), “The First World Congress of the Missing Things” (Baltimore / USA, 2014), “The Dignity of Man” (Brno House of Arts, Brno / CZ, 2014), “Du Bakchich pour Lampedusa” (Sousse / TN, 2014), “Part of the Game” (nGbK, Berlin / GER, 2014), “The Blue Frog Society”, 64th UN NGO/DPI conference (Bonn / GER, 2011); Recent publications: Barbara Holub / Paul Rajakovics, Direct Urbanism (2013), Barbara Holub, found, set, appropriated (2010). www.transparadiso.com; www.missingthings.org

Grant Kester (San Diego / USA) is a professor of art history in the Visual Arts Department at the University of California in San Diego. He is one of the leading figures in the emerging critical dialog around participatory or “dialogical” art practices. His publications include Art, Activism and Oppositionality: Essays from Afterimage (Duke University Press, 1998), Conversation Pieces: Community and Communication in Modern Art (University of California Press, 2004), and The One and the Many: Contemporary Collaborative Art in a Global Context (Duke University Press, 2011). He is currently completing work on an anthology consisting of essays, interviews, and manifestos by artists and art collectives working in Latin America over the past twenty years, which he is coediting with Bill Kelley.

[ Isola Art Center / Bert Theis ] Isola Art Center (Milan / I) is an open, experimental platform for contemporary art based in Milan’s Isola neighborhood. It is powered by energy, enthusiasm, and solidarity. Over the last decade Isola Art Center has confronted an urban situation marked by conflict and extensive transformations. Its projects continue to be “no-budget,” precarious, and hyperlocal. Doing away with conventional hierarchical structures, Isola Art Center rhizomatically brings together Italian and international artists, critics and curators, artists’ collectives, activists, architects, researchers, students, and neighborhood groups. Edna Gee, Edith Poirier, Mariette Schiltz, Bert Theis, and Camilla Topuntoli guest-edited Fight-Specific Isola Journal 1, graphic design by Daniele Rossi.

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Biographies

[ Torange Khonsari ] Torange Khonsari (London / UK) obtained her professional diploma at the Architectural Association School of Architecture in London. Her practice and research pedagogy lies in relational art, architecture theories, and informal contexts. The research projects are socially motivated and work directly with public space, their local players, communities, and stakeholders. They assess and challenge how design and programmatic strategies can support and facilitate physical, economic, and social infrastructures in the public realm. In 2004 Torange Khonsari cofounded the art and architecture practice public works, a multidisciplinary practice working on the threshold of art, architecture, and related cultural fields. Currently she is a director of public works and teaches design at London Metropolitan University and the Royal College of Art in London.

[ Folke Köbberling ] Folke Köbberling and Martin Kaltwasser (Berlin / GER) have been working on their concept of artistic and aesthetic opposition to the following issues: pressure to consume, growing surveillance, and ever-increasing motor traffic threatening to change the appearance of our cities in a fundamental way. They suggest alternatives to the consumerist ideology—structural interventions, artistic statements, actions, and theories.

Recent projects include: “Automanic”, Schaustelle der Pinakothek der Moderne, with David Moises (solo, Munich / GER, 2013); “Our Century”, Ruhrtriennale (GER); “Car Culture—das Auto als Skulptur”, Lentos Museum (Linz / A, 2012); “Labor”, OK Centrum für Gegenwartskunst (Linz / A, 2012); “Regionale 2012” (Murau / A, 2012); “bottom up”, Galerie für Gegenwartskunst (solo, Bremen / GER, 2011); “Postautomobilzeitalter”, Jack Hanley Gallery (solo, New York / USA, 2011); “White Trash #5”, Zabriski Point (solo, Geneva / CH, 2011); “Tracing Mobility”, Haus der Kulturen der Welt (Berlin / GER, 2011); “Mobilisieren”, Städtische Galerie Nordhorn (Nordhorn / GER, 2011); “Stop”, Locker Plant, Chinati Foundation (solo, Marfa / USA, 2010); “Cars Into Bicycles”, Bergamot Station (solo, Santa Monica / USA, 2010); “Pignons sur rues”, Maison Folie Wazemmes (Lille / F, 2010); “Zur Nachahmung empfohlen” (Berlin / GER, 2010); “Poznan Biennale” (Poznan / PL, 2010); “Platforms”, Ujadowski Castle (solo, Warsaw / PL, 2009); “Stau”, Galerie Anselm Dreher (solo, Berlin / GER, 2009); “São Paulo Biennale of Architecture” (São Paulo / BRA, 2009); “Pittoresk”, Marta Herford (Herford / GER, 2009).

[ Elke Krasny ] Elke Krasny (Vienna / A) is a curator, cultural theorist, urban researcher, and writer; professor at the Academy of Fine Arts Vienna; visiting scholar at the Canadian Centre for Architecture in 2012; visiting professor at the Academy of Fine Arts Nuremberg in 2013; visiting professor at the Vienna University of Technology in 2014. Recent curatorial works include: “Two or Three Things We’ve Learned. Intersections of Art Pedagogy and Protest”, Gallery of the Viennese Artist Association (Vienna / A, 2010); “Penser Tout Haut. Faire l’Architecture”, Centre de Design UQAM (Montréal / CAN, 2010) and Dalhousie University (Halifax / CAN, 2011); “Hands-On Urbanism 1850–2012”. “The Right to Green” was shown at the Architecture Centre Vienna (A), at the GfZK (Museum of Contemporary Art Leipzig / GER), and at the Architecture Biennale (Venice / I, 2012). Together with Irene Nierhaus she edited Urbanografien. Stadtforschung in Kunst, Architektur und Theorie, 2008. The edited volume Women’s:Museum. Curatorial Politics in Feminism, Education, History, and Art was published in 2013.

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[ Yvette Masson-Zanussi ] Yvette Masson-Zanussi (Paris / F) is a civil servant, inspector of creation, artistic education, and cultural action of the French Ministry of Culture and Communication. She gives lectures and consults on cultural policy and the European context. Yvette Masson-Zanussi, after graduating in history of arts and in cultural public policies, started her career in performance arts and directing video art. At the National Cultural Agency ANFIAC, she carried out a series of seminars, lifelong learning sessions, publications on reflection about art (Revue Frictions). As cultural manager she developed a French cultural center in Cameroon (Garoua) and managed the Centre Dramatique National (CDNA, Grenoble / F). She joined the French Ministry of Culture (in charge of theater, cinema awareness, urban policies for depraved areas, contracts with the territorial authorities, architecture). In this framework she established international festivals (Mousson d’été, Passages), initiated a new policy in favor of “art factories” and a new territorialized policy with the local authorities of Ile-de-France. She was appointed to the Directorate General of Heritage and Architecture in 2008, where she drafted the EU Council Conclusions on architecture and sustainable development (adopted in 2008). 2009–2013 she was seconded to the European Forum for Architectural Policies to carry out their implementation and managing EFAP activities and projects. She initiated conferences with the European Parliament, was part of expert groups, set up Venice Biennale events, a pilot project (architects in residence), an observatory on innovative processes (Underconstructions), and she chaired the Platform on the Potential of Creative and Cultural Industries established by the European Commission. She is coeditor of the book Alterarchitectures Manifesto (Eterotopia / Infolio, 2012).

[ Paul O’Neill ] Paul O’Neill (New York / USA) is an artist, curator, educator, and writer based in New York. He is director of the graduate program at the Centre for Curatorial Studies, Bard College. He has cocurated more than fifty exhibition projects across the world including: “Last Day”, Cartel Gallery (London / UK, 2012); “Our Day Will Come”, part of “Iteration: Again”, Hobart (Tasmania / AUS, 2011); “We are Grammar”, Pratt Institute, Manhattan Gallery (New York / USA, 2011); “Coalesce: happenstance”, SMART (Amster-

dam / NL, 2009). He has held lecturing positions on the MFA Curating, Goldsmiths College, London, and on visual culture at Middlesex University, amongst others. He is also an international tutor on the de Appel Curatorial Programme. His writing has been published in many books, catalogs, journals, and magazines, and he is a regular contributor to Art Monthly. He is reviews editor for Art and the Public Sphere Journal and on the editorial board of The Exhibitionist and The Journal of Curatorial Studies. He is editor of the curatorial anthology Curating Subjects (2007) and coeditor of Curating and the Educational Turn with Mick Wilson (2010), both published by de Appel and Open Editions (Amsterdam and London), and author of Locating the Producers: Durational Approaches to Public Art (Amsterdam, Valiz, 2011), edited with Claire Doherty. He completed the authored book The Culture of Curating and the Curating of Culture(s) (Cambridge, MASS., MIT Press, 2012 and recently published a new anthology, Curating Research, edited with Mick Wilson (Appel and Open Editions, 2014.

[ Osservatorio Urbano / Lungomare ] osservatorio urbano (Angelika Burtscher, Roberto Gigliotti, Daniele Lupo; Bolzano / I) is structured as an open laboratory that enables face-to-face encounters with the images and impressions the inhabitants have of their city. Through interventions focused on aspects such as spontaneity, emotions, and unpredictability in the urban context, the project has developed in the last years in a broader and more long-term direction. osservatorio urbano engages in the creative development of strategies for reading the city with the intention of encouraging an intuitive and interdisciplinary perception of urban space. Realized interventions include “Agency for Urban Exploration Bolzano” (2005-2010), “Sette per Sette and Statt der Engel” (2010); in 2008 the osservatorio urbano published the book Traum Stadt Wir—Möglichkeiten urbaner Wahrnehmung (Studienverlag Innsbruck-Wien-Bozen).

[ Paul Rajakovics ] Paul Rajakovics (Vienna / A) is an architect and urbanist. He founded transparadiso with artist Barbara Holub in 1999 as a transdisciplinary practice. 2000 PhD on Contextual Acting in Architecture and Urbanism; 1997–2003 and since 2009 assistant

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professor at the Department for Housing and Design of the Vienna University of Technology; 2004 Schindler grant, MAK Center for Art and Architecture, Los Angeles; 2004–2006 co-secretary of Europan Austria; since 2002 member of the editorial board of dérive—magazine for urban research; in 2007 transparadiso received the Otto Wagner Prize for Urban Planning. transparadiso has been developing new tools and artistic-urban strategies for direct urbanism, as a new practice for involving societal issues on a long-term basis addressing the current problems of urban development—producing a third layer in addition to conventional planning strategies of urban design and urban planning. Recent architecture projects include the realization of the new urban quarter Stadtwerk Lehen (social housing and public urban space) and Fotohof Gallery (Salzburg / A, 2009-2012) Urban interventions include: “Operation Goldhaube” (Salzburg Museum, 2015), “Paradise Enterprise” (Judenburg / A, 2012–2014), “Commons Come to Liezen” (Styria / A, 2011). Publications include Researching Utopia (2014); Barbara Holub / Paul Rajakovics, Direct Urbanism (2013); Barbara Holub / Paul Rajakovics, Urban Miracles (2010), and Uropean Urbanity (eds. Paul Rajakovics, Bernd Vlay, Marko Studen, 2007). www.transparadiso.com

[ Jane Rendell ] Jane Rendell (London / UK) is an architectural historian / theorist and art critic who has developed the concept of critical spatial practice and the practice of site-writing through such authored books as Site-Writing (2010), Art and Architecture (2006), and The Pursuit of Pleasure (2002) and coedited books such as Pattern (2007), Critical Architecture (2007), Spatial Imagination (2005), The Unknown City (2001), Intersections (2000), Gender, Space, Architecture (1999), and Strangely Familiar (1995). She is currently working on a new book on transitional spaces in architecture and psychoanalysis. Recent texts have been commissioned by artists such as Jasmina Cibic, Apolonija Susteric and transparadiso, and institutions such as FRAC Centre, Orléans (F), and Hamburger Bahnhof, Berlin (GER). She is on the editorial board for ARQ (Architectural Research Quarterly), Architectural Theory Review, The Happy Hypocrite, The Journal of Visual Culture in Britain, Ultima Thule and Zetisis. She is professor of architecture and art at the Bartlett, UCL. www.janerendell.co.uk

[ Karin Reisinger ]

[ Georg Winter ]

Karin Reisinger (Vienna / A) is an architect and researcher; she received her diploma from the Vienna University of Technology. After focusing on visual culture she pursued cultural studies at the University of Vienna and finished her PhD Grass Without Roots. Towards Nature Becoming Spatial Practice on parks and conflicts at the Institute of Art and Design, Vienna University of Technology / Visual Culture Unit, in 2014; 2011 fellowship holder at Universidade Católica de Moçambique (Marietta Blau Grant). Since 2012 she has been part of the research team of “Planning Unplanned” (urban-matters.org). In January 2015 Karin Reisinger held the conference “In Transitional Landscapes (work reports)” together with Amila Širbegovi at the Institute of Art and Design, Vienna UT. Publications: “Festland-Inseln” in Lücken im urbanen Raum (eds. Reni Hofmüller, Nicole Pruckermayr, Wolfgang Reinisch; Eigenverlag ESC im LABOR, 2012), “Space Complicities: Towards Strategies of Inhabiting Exception, Wars and Parks” in Space (Re)Solutions (eds. Peter Mörtenböck, Helge Mooshammer, 2011), “Bartleby, the Scrivener: Räume, Strategien, Komplizenschaft” in trans 18 (2011).

Georg Winter (Stuttgart, Saarbrücken / GER; Budapest / H) is an artist. He initiates temporary laboratories, urban situations, self-organizing performances, and research projects in an interdisciplinary field of work which are significant for his artistic practice. With UKIYO CAMERA SYSTEMS he has been one of the most important activists in the fields of expanded media and space-related experimental art since the 1980s. Georg Winter has been a professor of sculpture / public art at HBK (Academy of Fine Arts) Saar (Saarbrücken / GER) since 2007. He founded forschungsgruppe_f in Zurich (CH), Arbeitsgemeinschaft Retrograde Strategien in Berlin (GER), Urban Research Institute in Nuremberg (GER), S_A_R Projektbüro in Völklingen (GER) and AG AST Arbeitsgemeinschaft Anastrophale Stadt. Recent publications include Psychotektonik (Cologne, 2013) and “STR Space of Total Retreat” in Hacking the City. Interventionen in urbanen und kommunikativen Räumen (ed. Museum Folkwang, Göttingen 2011).

[ Mick Wilson ] Mick Wilson (Göteborg / SE) is an artist, curator and art theoretician; currently Head of the Valand Academy of Arts, Gothenburg, Sweden, previously founder Dean of the Graduate School of Creative Arts and Media, Ireland (www.gradcam.ie); Chair of the ‘SHARE’ EU-wide network (www.sharenetwork.eu) for doctoral level studies in the arts; member of the European Art Research Network (www.artresearch.eu). Co-editor with Paul O’Neill of Curating and the Educational Turn, Amsterdam / London, (2010). Recent art projects / group exhibitions include: “The Food Thing: Of the Salt Bitter Sweet Sea”, Dublin, 2012; “The Recipe Salons”, Dublin, 2012. Current collaboration projects include “the food thing 2011–2014”; and “dead publics 2009–2013”. Recent publications include: “We Are the Board, But What is an Assemblage?”, in Mara Ambrozic & Angela Vettese (eds.), Art as a Thinking Process, Sternberg Press (2013); Curating Research, co-edited with Paul O’Neill, Appel and Open Editions (2014); “Dead Public: An Unfinished Enquiry” in Catalin Gheorghe (ed.), Vector – artistic research in context (2014).

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Biografien / Biographies

Photo credits:

Imprint This publication is based on the artistic research project “Planning Unplanned_Towards a New Positioning of Art in the Context of Urban Development” Barbara Holub directed at the Institute of Art and Design 1 / Vienna University of Technology. The project was funded in the frame of “Innovative Ideas” by the Vienna University of Technology (2010–2014). Editors: Barbara Holub, Christine Hohenbüchler Concept and editing: Barbara Holub, Silvia Jaklitsch, Karin Reisinger Graphic design: Rosebud, Inc., Vienna Copy-editing: Ada Brant, Martin Thomas Pesl Translations: Ada Brant, Martin Thomas Pesl Printed by: Holzhausen Druck GmbH Published by: VfmK Verlag für moderne Kunst GmbH www.vfmk.org ISBN 978-3-86984-063-5 All rights reserved. Printed in Austria. © Book: by the editors and Verlag für moderne Kunst © Texts: by the authors © Photos: by the artists, photographers and Bildrecht, Vienna

pp. 18–19 Andreas Ritschl; p. 50 Pia Lanzinger; p. 54 Beyond / Leidsche Rijn Utrecht; p. 59 Barbara Holub; p. 63 Barbara Holub; p. 68 Christine Hohenbüchler, Barbara Holub; pp. 87–90 public works; p. 94 Cai Ulrich von Platen; p. 95 photo by Jean Baptiste Beranger and plan by Kerstin Bergendal; p. 98 Jean Baptiste Beranger; p. 99 glamour; pp. 103–105 aaa (atelier d’architecture autogérée); pp. 108–111 other sights; p. 118 www. urban-matters.org; pp. 122–126 Elke Krasny; pp. 128–129 Barbara Holub; pp. 130–131 Barbara Holub / Folke Köbberling; p. 132 Andreas Ritschl; pp. 142–143 forschungsgruppe_f / Georg Winter; p.145 Manfred Vollmer; pp. 146–149 Markus Ambach; pp. 154–155 Bert Theis; drawing on p. 155 by Edna Gee; p. 157 Barbara Holub; pp. 158–160 Elisabeth Stephan, Barbara Holub; pp. 162–163 Andreas Ritschl; pp. 164–165 Barbara Holub / Folke Köbberling; p. 167 Barbara Holub; p. 176 Marcel van der Meijs; p. 177 “Anfield’s Housing Market renewal area” by Tim Brundsen; “Project base 2up 2down at former Mitchells Bakery” by Liverpool Biennial; p. 178 “Project base 2up 2down on Match Days” by Liverpool Biennial; “Open for business” by Mark Loudon; “Baking workshop onsite” by Jessica Doyle; p. 183–184 Irene Hohenbüchler; “Drilling machine” by Fiona, Comprehensive School Emschertal; pp. 186–187 Barbara Holub; pp. 188–189 Barbara Holub / Folke Köbberling; p. 191 Martin Krenn; pp. 196–197 Samstag in der Stadt; pp. 200–202 Osservatorio Urbano / Lungomare; p. 208 Marcus Auer, transparadiso; p. 209 Matthias Jahn, transparadiso; p. 211 Marcus Auer, transparadiso; pp. 212–213 Andreas Ritschl; pp. 214–215 Barbara Holub / Folke Köbberling; pp. 229–230 Barbara Holub; p. 231 Alexey Efremov; p. 233 Anatoly Ptashnik; p. 237 friends of franckviertel; pp. 239–241 transparadiso, Violetta Rajakovics; p. 242 Stefan Demming, transparadiso; p. 243 Jan Watzak-Helmer, transparadiso; p. 244 Sven Wuttej.

Bibliographic information published by Die Deutsche Nationalbibliothek Die Deutsche Bibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche National bibliografie; detailed bibliographic data is available in the Internet at http://dnb.ddb.de. Distribution: D, A and Europe LKG, www.lkg-va.de CH: AVA, www.ava.ch UK: Cornerhouse Publications, www.cornerhouse.org USA: D.A.P., www.artbook.com Thanks to: Karin Reisinger, Silvia Jaklitsch, Georg Winter, Folke Köbberling, Paul Rajakovics, Matthias Jahn, Barbara Putz-Plecko, Isa Rosenberger, Inge Manka, Karin Harather, Rudolf Scheuvens, Christian Kühn, Bettina Leidl, Martina Taig, Sonja Huber, Lilli Hollein, Andrea Holzmann, Silvia Wustinger-Renezeder, Andrea Braidt, Eva Blimlinger, Dirck Möllmann, Elisabeth Fiedler, Anton Falkeis, Gerald Bast, Simon Walterer and the authors and artists as well as the students who produced the setting for the symposium. This publication was funded by the Faculty of Architecture and Planning and the Institute of Art and Design 1 / Vienna University of Technology, the Vice-Rector of the Vienna University of Technology (research grant for Karin Reisinger), the BKA / Arts Division and the Culture Division of the Federal Chancellery of Austria, and the Academy of Fine Arts, Vienna. The symposium “Planning Unplanned_Exploring the New Role of the Urban Practitioner” (Nov. 22–23, 2012) received additional funding by Kunst im öffentlichen Raum GmbH (Public Art Vienna).

Planning Unplanned - Can Art Have a Function? Towards a New Function of Art in Society

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Planning Unplanned - Can Art Have a Function? Towards a New Function of Art in Society